


You and I

by shiftylinguini



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Crushes, Friends to Lovers, Frottage, Getting Together, HP Rare Fest 2017, HP: Epilogue Compliant, Harry Potter Next Generation, Loss of Virginity, M/M, No CC Spoilers, Past Harry Potter/Ginny Weasley, Pining, Recreational Drug Use, Romance, Roommates, Sexual Inexperience, Sharing a Bed, Trans female Lorcan Scamander
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-13
Updated: 2017-06-13
Packaged: 2018-10-31 06:54:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 31,720
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10894062
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shiftylinguini/pseuds/shiftylinguini
Summary: Scorpius has adored Albus since he met him, so it’s a surprise to no one that he’s in love with him. Well, it’s a bit of a surprise to Scorpius actually, but he can handle this. He can handle this, as well as being gay, having to come out, and then having to tell their families, three years later, that he and Albus are getting engaged.Now, all they have to do is grit their teeth and somehow get through the sodding wedding planning ― let alone the dreaded event itself ― and Scorpius can get on with being happy with Albus. Never mind that their families seem to be competing against each other in the Wizard Wedding Argument Olympics, that Albus looks more miserable every day, and that Scorpius couldn’t give even the whisper of a fuck about cakes, invitations, and wizarding tradition. All Scorpius really wants is Albus, but it’s not about them. That’s how getting married works, isn’t it?Isn’t it?





	1. Fort in a Storm

**Author's Note:**

> Tremendous, heartfelt thanks to C, for the incredible cheer leading and suggestions, and for encouraging me to keep going with this, and to M for looking this over at the eleventh hour! You are both golden <3
> 
> Written for the prompt: _They are sick of their parents not getting on and/or meddling in their relationship, so Scorpius and Albus decide to elope._ Prompted [here](http://hprarefest.livejournal.com/94818.html?thread=1493090#t1493090) at HP RareFest, by Llaeyro. I hope you enjoy this! :)

-:-:-:-

Scorpius stood in front of the mass of hovering sheets, stacked pillows, and the silhouette of what he was certain was either his best friend, or a particularly knobbly-elbowed and badly kept mop.

“Password,” the silhouette barked for the second time. Scorpius frowned.

“This has definitely got to be one of the weirder things you’ve done in order to avoid having to go to a ball, Al.”

“You’re not coming in without the password.”

Scorpius raised his eyes, then dropped them, looking around the parts of the room that weren’t currently occupied by fort. Password? He knew the password for the common room, but other than that he had no idea.

“Um. Shoes?” 

“Wrong.”

“Socks?”

“Wronger.”

Scorpius groaned and looked to the left. This was ridiculous, and he was running out of objects. “Is it...window?”

“What? No!” 

“Is it Magazine By Jenson’s Bed ―”

“You’re just naming stuff you can see!”

“You’re seventeen and hiding in a blanket fort!” Scorpius shot back. “Which you won’t let me _in_ , so ―” 

“I _will_ let you in, when you guess the password!”

“I don’t bloody know, is it...eel sandwich!” Scorpius all but yelled in annoyance at the shape of Albus’s messy hair through the thin sheet. 

There was silence, then a short snort and a laugh in reply. “Yeah, all right. Enter.”

Scorpius stared. “Wha ― _really_? That was the password?”

“No,” Albus scoffed. “But it’ll do. Speak _eel sandwich_ and enter, friend,” he finished in a solemn tone. Scorpius shook his head, then leant down and crawled through the crack in the sheets. 

The fort was smaller inside than he had anticipated ― he’d expected Albus to have Charmed it, but apparently the only magic he’d done was to levitate the sheets slightly so they didn’t topple onto his head. He’d also nicked, Scorpius noted with only minimal annoyance, the sheets off of Scorpius’s bed as well as his own in order to make his impromptu and bizarre hiding place from the horrors of the Yule Ball. 

“Wow, this is pretty good actually, Al!”

“Yeah? Took me ages.” Albus sniffed, smiling as Scorpius settled down against a plump cushion, his hair just tickling the sheet above them. He was slightly taller than Albus, and almost too big to fit. Scorpius was about to point out that the cushion beneath him looked very much like a Transfigured version of his own pillow, when he stopped. 

Across from him, sitting on a green and black pillow with his chin in his hand, Albus looked...different. Scorpius began tugging his shoe off as he tried to figure out what it was. 

“So, why are we in a fort, and not at the Ball?” he asked, wrestling one foot free, flinging his shoe ― Merlin, he hated wearing dress shoes ― out the front of the fort. It made a solid clunk as it hit a bed post, and Scorpius smiled and moved onto his sock. He snuck a look at his friend. Was it Albus’s hair that was wrong? It looked like it probably hadn’t been brushed, but that was nothing new. Scorpius wasn’t sure if Albus even owned a brush; he mostly just used Scorpius’s, the dark strands mingling in with the blond. It was kind of gross, and Scorpius kind of loved it. 

Albus shrugged. “Well, _I’m_ in a fort because I built one. You’re in here because,” Albus smiled slightly, “crippling co-dependency, maybe?”

“Oi!” Scorpius threw his sock at him. Was Albus wearing something new, Scorpius wondered, as he dodged Albus throwing the sock right back at him. Albus’d left his robes on his mattress and was wearing a fraying woollen jumper with a lime green A on the middle, and some hideous corduroy jeans with a huge rip in the knee, but again that was also mostly par for the course; Albus often dressed like he’d fallen out of bed and into whatever couldn’t escape him fast enough. Scorpius was jealous, right now. His own dress robes were stiff and itchy around the collar. They made him look and feel like a toffy prat. 

“I was worried about you, that’s all,” he explained, fiddling with his shoe lace and leaving out _and avoiding Rose like the plague_. “You didn’t show up at the Ball, and no one had seen you, and…” _And I was bored out of my skull without you there_ , also went unsaid; he’d save that for when he knew why Albus looked so peaky. “Are you ill?” he asked. Albus’s face was paler than usual, yet his cheeks were flushed and splotchy with colour at the same time. His eyes were bright and red around the edges.

“Nah,” Albus hesitated for a moment then sighed heavily. “Dad came to visit today.”

Scorpius wrenched off his remaining dress shoe, giving a short ‘ _ha!_ ’ of triumph as he flung the offending item out to join its mate. He stopped when he realised what Albus had just said. Scorpius’s face fell, as he finally put his finger on what it was about Albus that looked off. 

He had been crying. 

“Oh, shit,” Scorpius said softly. “How did...is it...” he fished for the words. “Is it all finalised, then?” he tried. 

Albus nodded, his expression blank. “Mum’s moved out properly. Dad’s staying in the house but he said he’s probably going to find a new place.” Albus tried for a smile, his eyes slightly watery again. “And we all get two Christmases, I guess,” he finished, his tone trying to be light, but ending up wobbly. Albus wiped one eye in annoyance, fingers coming away wet.

“Sorry, Al,” Scorpius said quietly, feeling useless. He was at a loss at what to say here. He knew Mr and Mrs Potter had been on a trial separation for a few weeks now, and had also known that Albus thought that was just them trying to ease their children into the fact they were definitely getting a divorce. Apparently, Albus had been right. Scorpius knew Albus well enough by now to guess that that wasn’t making him feel any better about the situation. 

“S’not like I care. I mean,” Albus pulled at a fraying strand edge of his jumper, “I knew they were going to do it. I just…” he yanked at the thread, then starting wrapping it around his index finger tightly, trapping the blood and turning it red. “Just didn’t feel like being around people after he left.” The wool snapped, and Scorpius nodded. He knew Albus cared a lot more than he was comfortable with letting on, and that forcing him to talk about it would make him feel worse. He usually needed time to process things, and Scorpius was more than happy to let him have it for now. It’d come out later, when Albus was ready. 

“So,” Scorpius shifted slightly, giving Albus room to stretch his legs out. “Where are you going to live then? When you leave here in a few months.”

Albus sniffed again, looking grateful for the change of subject. “With neither of them.” He wiggled his toes in his socks ― pink and orange, with a hole in the heel ― and Scorpius stretched his own legs out next to him. “I’m gonna get my own place.”

Scorpius stared. “Re ― really? On your,” he cleared his suddenly dry throat, “on your own?” 

Albus nodded, and Scorpius fought to understand the strange pang of _something_ inside him at the idea of it. Jealousy, perhaps, or envy. Something about the idea of Albus living on his own didn’t feel good to him. He felt left out by it, somehow, even as he tried to squash that down while Albus continued talking. 

“I know exactly the place. James checked it out for me, a few weeks back, then helped me put down the deposit. He’s making mint on the team playing for the Montrose Magpies, he reckons, and he’s gonna hang around and help Mum with the move. Lily doesn’t seem to give a stuff really, I told her a while ago. Only promise is I have to let her keep all the joke stuff Dad won’t let her have at mine so it’s not confiscated.” Albus smiled, for the first time all evening. “Seems an okay deal.”

Scorpius listened with a sinking heart. “A deposit?” he croaked. “So, you...you already did it?” 

He tried to smile when Albus nodded again, watching Scorpius carefully, and Scorpius tried even harder to ignore the horrible feeling that lurched inside him at the idea of Albus doing something without him. 

“That’s exciting!” He cringed at the forced enthusiasm of his voice. He looked down. “Where is it?” Scorpius asked his knees. 

“Kent. It’s really small, kind of poxy really, but I didn’t want somewhere I couldn't afford,” Albus said excitedly, straightening up. Scorpius’s heart sank further. 

“Oh, I always wanted to live there,” he murmured, unable to keep the dejected tone out of his voice. He’d even talked about it with Albus, about how he wanted to get a little place that side of town, somewhere near the magizoological veterinary academy he was planning to go to, if he did as expected on his N.E.W.T.S. and got accepted. Well, and if he could ever convince his parents to let him move out. He tried to push the feeling aside. 

“Yeah, I know,” Albus said, looking at him almost nervously. “You’ve been going on about it all year.” He grinned, and Scorpius smiled back as well as he could. He fiddled with the collar of his dress robes, then began to undo it. Maybe he could find somewhere near Albus, and they could still see each other a lot, he thought, running his fingers under the starched material. 

“That’s why it has two bedrooms,” Albus added quietly. Scorpius nodded again, finally getting the blasted, itching collar away from his throat, before his head shot up. 

“Wait, what?” he asked, blinking in surprise at Albus’s grinning face. 

“It’s near that academy you’re obsessed with, too.”

“What, you mean I could live there?” 

Albus shrugged, flushing slightly. “Well, you don’t have to. It’s only if you want to.” He tucked some unruly hair behind his ear and Scorpius tried to process what Albus was offering ― _two bedrooms!_ ― and not to split his face in two with his grin. 

“I just thought, ‘cause I’ll need a place, and you said you were a bit sick of living with your parents,” Albus had begun picking at the hole in his jeans again, a nervous gesture, Scorpius now recognised. “The rent is pretty cheap, and I reckon you can afford it, but I know it’s maybe a shit surprise and if you don’t want to ―” 

“I do!” Scorpius blurted. “I totally want to!”

“Yeah?”

“Yes!” Scorpius shut his mouth, aware that he had almost shouted that. He was never very good at containing his excitement, and this was something he’d been dreaming of all year. His own place, out from under his parents’ loving yet sometimes stifling roof, and best of all, Albus in the room across the hall. 

“Cool.” Albus looked as though he shared Scorpius’s sentiments, and as though he had been in some way worried Scorpius would say no. It was unusual for Scorpius to see Albus uncertain around him, but he found he didn’t mind it this time. “Will your parents let you, though?” 

“Oh, who cares.” Scorpius waved a hand, wiggling his now-sockless toes merrily. He was certainly too happy to care himself. “They can’t stop me.”

“They could lock you in a dungeon.”

“We don’t have a dungeon, Al, how many times do I have to tell you.” Scorpius grinned cheekily. “They could lock me in an en suite bathroom, we have a load of them.”

“You’d be the cleanest prisoner ever,” Albus added sagely. “What about Rose, though?” Scorpius didn’t imagine the funny tone which crept into Albus’s voice at the mention of Rose. They were good friends, Albus and his cousin, but Albus didn’t seem entirely comfortable with Rose and Scorpius as an item. Rose thought it was because Albus was worried Scorpius would spend less time with him, and it seemed a valid worry. Well, it might have been, if Scorpius hadn’t actually been a terrible boyfriend who still spent more time with Albus than his girlfriend. He shuffled uncomfortably. 

“Ah,” said Scorpius quietly. “I’m sure she won’t mind.”

“Oh, yeah? How is love’s young dream, anyway?” Albus scowled, and Scorpius felt himself starting to go red. “I’m surprised she let you leave the Ball, really.”

“Um.” Scorpius swallowed, stalling. “She sort of encouraged it?” 

“Huh?” Albus looked confused. 

“Ah, well you see, we are…Well, we’re not together anymore. As of,” Scorpius scrunched his face up in thought, “an hour ago? Maybe an hour and a half.” 

Albus’s eyes shot up in surprise, the annoyed confusion leaving his face and replaced by worry and contrition. 

“Oh, shit! Sorry, I ― I didn't even ask, I just assumed you skived off from the Ball halfway through like we usually do ―” 

“― No, it’s really not ―”

“― and then I just banged on about my stuff! Are you okay? 

“No, your thing is bigger,” Scorpius said honestly. “And I'm... fine,” Scorpius admitted after a moment. 

“Are you… You're not upset?” Albus asked, his face open as he searched Scorpius’s for any signs of heartbreak. Scorpius’s mouth turned down into a bashful grimace. 

“Um. Probably not as much as I think I should be. And definitely not as much as Rose thinks I should be,” he finished guiltily. 

He really was fine, and he felt...a bit bad about that. He felt he ought to be disappointed about things not working out, but to be honest he’d mostly been relieved when Rose had said they should stop dating. Maybe he just wasn’t cut out for this whole girlfriend thing. He wasn’t a very good kisser, or maybe Rose wasn't, but either way they didn’t seem to have a lot of chemistry. He certainly had no desire to go any further with her, even though she was gorgeous. He was a bit confused by that, but had just put it all down to first time nerves. Whenever he’d been alone with Rose, he’d found himself mostly wondering what Albus and their friends were up to, which...Well, it made being dumped not exactly a burden. 

“So, it happened at the Ball?” Albus queried sympathetically. Scorpius sighed. 

“Yeah.” He grimaced; he might as well tell Albus the whole embarrassing story. “She wanted to dance with me, and I really didn’t want to, I mean, you know me, I’ve got about seven left feet, and everyone would be watching us,” Scorpius complained. “I hate that sort of thing.” He sighed as Albus nodded sympathetically. “So, she got annoyed and said I never do things like that with her and then it all sort of poured out and…” Scorpius shrugged. “And she said it might be better if we stopped being a couple,” he mumbled. He pointedly left out the part where she said he kissed like it was a chore, and tended to look terrified if she so much as touched his knee. She hadn’t said it meanly, but Scorpius didn’t know how to explain why kissing her _did_ feel like something he had to muster the energy to do. 

“She said that in the middle of the Great Hall?” Albus asked, eyes wide.

“No! No, she dragged me to, well, an alcove sort of thing. I think she was expecting me to cry, so she found somewhere private. Quite thoughtful of her, really,” Scorpius muttered, distinctly dry-eyed. Apparently he was an even worse ex-boyfriend than boyfriend. Maybe if he pinched himself really hard, he could muster a tear.

“And _did_ you cry?” 

Scorpius shook his head, and Albus rested his chin in his hand once more, now seeming calmer after having ascertained that Scorpius was okay. “What did you say then?” 

Scorpius wrinkled his nose. “I...might have said ‘oh, thank Merlin.’”

Albus’s head shot up. “Scorpius!” he whispered, sounding both scandalized and delighted. “You can’t say _that_ when someone breaks up with you!”

“I know!” Scorpius lay down on his side, hands over his face. “It just fell out of my mouth!” he mumbled through his fingers, while Albus laughed. 

“I’m surprised she didn’t Hex you.”

“I ran away before she could.” Scorpius’s voice was muffled through his fingers. He sat up, feeling better for having gotten this story off his chest, at least. It didn't make it any less embarrassing though. He was about to speak, when a shock of red hair burst through the fort’s entrance. 

“So. Did you tell him?”

“Lily, what the ― you can’t be in here!” Albus exclaimed, sounding more amused than upset. “This is the boys’ dorm, and you...Wait, you’re not even in this house.” Albus looked at Scorpius, who looked equally surprised back. “How’d you get the password?” he asked, and Lily winked. 

“I have my ways. Anyway, it was boring in my dorm. I tried to mope about Mum and Dad, but it was dull, so I came to annoy you. Oh, and then Rose came in.” She looked at Scorpius, who shrank back slightly. 

“Err. Did she?”

“Yeah.” Lily narrowed her eyes. “Please tell me you’re in here because you’re so heartbroken and forlorn that Rose dumped you, you can’t stand to be in crowds?” she asked, looking sternly at Scorpius. 

“Something like that,” he mumbled, then yelped when she punched him in the shoulder. She smirked as he rubbed the sore area. 

“Liar. You just wanted to hang out with Albus.” She grinned “I’m gonna tell her you’re upset though, okay? And that you built some kind of Fort of Emotion, which I presume is what all this is,” she said, barging into said fort, and looking around at Albus’s sheet construction appraisingly. “She was in a right foul mood,” she added, looking back at them. 

“Sorry,” Scorpius mumbled again, then yelped when Albus punched him in the other shoulder. 

“She dumped _you_! You don’t have to apologis ― Lily, _ow_!” Albus glared at his sister, who was smiling at him and sitting back from having hit him in the arm as hard as she could. “What was that for?” he griped.

“Had to even it out. I mean we both got him,” she looked apologetically at Scorpius, who huffed a soft laugh. “Seemed fair. So, did you tell him? Is he gonna move in with you, or are you going to be mooning around on your own, crying into my Junior Wizards Explosive and Budding Pyrotechnic Disaster kit?” She narrowed her eyes. “You’re still gonna let me keep my stuff there, right?”

Albus rolled his eyes, rubbing his shoulder, then grinned.

“I’ll take that as a yes, on both counts. There'd be far more tears and dramatics if you’d said no.” Lily grinned at Scorpius, ignoring Albus’s glare. “Although, I don’t recommend actually crying into the Explosives kit, it’s pretty volatile. Remember when Mildred’s Kneazle was vomit green a while back?”

“That was _you_?” Scorpius laughed as Lily shrugged bashfully. “What were you doing with Mildred’s Kneazle?” he asked curiously. 

“Turning it green, apparently,” Albus mumbled, but Lily ignored him. 

“Showing off my kit to Mildred, of course,” Lily explained easily. “But then poor Muffin sneezed on it and…” She made an exaggerated gesture with her hands, puffing out her cheeks. She laughed and produced a pack of cards from her pocket. 

“So! Exploding Snap, anyone?” She opened the pack with a flourish, waggling her eyebrows. “Best out of three wins.”

“Assuming you don’t get kicked out of here before then.” Albus raised his eyebrows, but Lily brushed it off, counting out the deck of cards.. 

“They won’t kick me out. I’ll say I was crying and you’re comforting me.”

“No one will believe that, Lily,” Scorpius said with a smile, taking his stack of cards. 

“About you crying _or_ needing comforting,” added Albus, shuffling his own. Lily nodded concedingly. 

“Hmm. Okay, well I’ll say one of you two were upset and I was comforting you?”

Scorpius and Albus both shrugged. “That’s marginally more likely,” Albus said. Lily sighed. 

“Oh, who cares. Get ready to lose, boys!” Lily wielded her cards with aplomb, and Scorpius laughed. He caught Albus’s eyes as he lay down the first card, flushing slightly when Albus grinned back at him and lay his own down on top of it.

-:-:-:-

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Comments] and [kudos] are love! Come say hi on [LJ ](http://shiftylinguini.livejournal.com/profile/)or [tumblr ](https://www.tumblr.com/dashboard)♥


	2. A Sparrow or a Snail

-:-:-:-

Scorpius was okay with Albus dating.

At least, he had always thought he would be, and really he didn’t have any feasible reason to object to it. He and Albus lived together, and had done so for about a year, but they were not a couple. They never had been. They were close, sickeningly close Albus’s sister liked to joke. That’s how it always had been between them, from Hogwarts and now as housemates in their little Kent house which had both of their names on the mailbox. But they were not romantically involved ― officially, unofficially, or in any way at all. Because they were friends, and that was it. Scorpius knew that. 

But as he watched Albus close the door behind himself, heading out to meet a guy named Sydney who was taking him to a bar which presumably had an equally obnoxious name, Scorpius felt...not that okay with it. 

Which in itself was something of a cause for alarm. 

He’d known Albus wasn’t straight, the same way he knew Albus wasn’t gay either. Albus was Albus; other labels seemed to just slide off of him, puddling around his feet. Scorpius was okay with all of that, and had never thought he’d have an issue with Albus seeing people. Really, it was all mostly academic; Albus didn’t date much, although he did sometimes spend the night at someone else’s house, or would leave with someone he’d met at a party. These anonymous somebodies always made Scorpius feel a bit wrong, a bit left out and strange, but he just put that down to being sad about the sorry state of his own love life. He’d never considered that it might be because he wanted to be the one to be leaving with Albus. He wasn’t sure if that was what he should be considering now, but he had a persistent and worrying suspicion that it was. 

Scorpius had always known he was straight. At least, he’d thought he’d always known it. That was a label he’d stuck on himself when he was young, and had never thought to remove. He liked girls, because that’s what Malfoy men did ― they met a nice respectable woman, and had a family with them, a son preferably, although Scorpius had secretly always wanted a daughter. One day he would have a wedding, with all the traditional pureblood trimmings and frills, and it would make his parents and his grandparents as happy with him as they’d ever been. 

Except. 

There were flaws in that plan, cracks that had been forming for years. The fact that he couldn't seem to date any women, nice, respectable and pureblood or otherwise, was something he was getting less able to ignore. And the fact that he was feeling, well, outright jealous of not only Albus going out without him, but going out to meet a man, in a romantic fashion, was something he felt he also shouldn’t ignore. 

That was something he should really address, he knew, as he sulkily banged things around in the kitchen, then aggressively ate a banana. Albus was going out to meet a stupid boy with a stupid name to have a stupid drink, and Scorpius was _jealous_. He finished his banana, and threw the peel on the counter; it landed with an unpleasant _thwap_ , which seemed to accurately sum up how Scorpius was feeling. He stared at it balefully for a moment, then groaned and picked it up and put it in the compost. He should go and meet a friend, maybe, or meet Lorcan and talk this out with her. She was always pretty perceptive when it came to things related to complex social interactions. 

“Maybe it’s what happens when you spend so much time not feeling like you fit in,” she’d told him once, wiping the remnants of her peach lipstick off the lip of her coffee cup. “Having to wear those stupid boys’ clothes all the time, feeling wrong in the boys’ dorm, then being made to feel wronger whenever I let that slip to people.” She’d shrugged, her eyes clear and grey and her face the spitting image of her twin brother’s, and yet completely different at the same time. “I liked watching people instead. Was a good distraction from thinking about myself.” 

Scorpius thought he could do with some distraction from thinking about himself, too. She would be a good shoulder to lean on, Scorpius thought, during his impromptu Albus-has-left-the-house-to-meet-some-guy-and-I’m-feeling-weird crisis. She was non-judgmental, a good listener. Plus, she usually had cake at her place. Scorpius could do with some cake. Really, it would be a great idea to go and meet a friend, or have someone come over, rather than sit about and stew over things he wasn’t even that ready to acknowledge were there. That would be the smart thing to do. 

Scorpius very maturely decided to get high in the bath instead. 

The bathtub was easily the best thing about their shared house. It was huge, which Scorpius adored. He was tall, and a bit lanky still, and while he couldn’t quite fit in there entirely, it was a close enough fit. It was nothing compared to the Prefect’s bathroom, which he’d been lucky enough to sneak into once with Albus and Louis, but he liked the shape of it, the way he could submerge his shoulders under the water while resting his ankles on the porcelain lip of the tub. He put on some music, the wireless James had given them as a housewarming gift, one of those which Teddy had magically Charmed to play music befitting the listener’s mood. Teddy was good with Charms, and made a living selling Muggle objects which he’d enhance with spells; mobile telephones which would call out the name, location and mood of the caller, watches which told not only the time but at the flick of a wand would also tell an interesting story about something which had happened at that exact point in time throughout history, books that read themselves to the reader. 

The things he made were often strange, sometimes impractical, but always interesting. He had a special permit, and was only allowed to sell to those who had been approved by the Muggle Relations board, but there were plenty of wizards and witches willing to get that. His store catered to the tastes of the more progressive wizarding culture that had emerged in London after the war, and was wildly popular. Scorpius loved the things Teddy created, especially the trinkets Teddy would make or paint, from delicate earrings with moving pieces, to cameo brooches with watercolour dancers on them, which really danced. Scorpius had two of them, one which was a gift from his father on his eighteenth, a fob watch which had blue flowers painted on it, which swayed in a perpetual breeze. It was an incredibly ornate piece of work which Scorpius was astonished to find his father had gone to purchase from Teddy himself; they were related, albeit distantly, and there wasn’t a lot of love lost between Teddy’s grandmother and Scorpius’s side of the family. Going into Teddy’s store and purchasing something there took an amount of pride-swallowing that Scorpius hadn’t known his father was capable of, but he was beyond thrilled that he’d done it.

The second trinket Scorpius owned was a brooch which Albus had picked up for him from Teddy’s reject pile. It was supposed to be a gift for a wealthy client, who wanted a beautiful ballet dancer in the style of Monet, and she was beautiful all right ― but she was a rubbish dancer. She kept falling over, then climbing over the barre instead of posing, and would make faces at her viewers, her pale face wild and charming. Teddy liked her too much to throw her away, and so he let Albus have it. The brooch now sat on their mantel piece, and the dancer sat inside it, happily doing everything wrong. Albus thought it was hilarious ― _“Look, she just gave me the finger! Now she’s laughing!”_ ― and Scorpius thought it reminded him of Albus. 

He sank lower into the water, resting his neck on the edge, and his elbows on the sides. He sighed, a thin plume of sweet-smelling smoke leaving his lips and disappearing before it reached the ceiling. He felt better already. 

Flit Weed wasn’t something he smoked often, but he did prefer it to drinking. Drinking made him anxious, and wobbly, and very often incontinently chatty. Smoking Flit Weed tended to have a pretty similar effect, only he ended up giggly rather than anxious, hungry rather than wobbly. Plus, he liked the way the smoke smelled like raspberries, and left a fruity flavour on his lips. 

He relaxed into the warm water, bubbles slowly bobbing along the surface, and began to hum along loudly to what the radio had currently chosen for him ― a song about a man who would rather be a sparrow than a snail, and while Scorpius didn't quite get it, he thought he could relate. He was so engrossed in watching a series of foamy bubbles disintegrate on his knees that he didn’t notice the door open. 

“Well this is cosy.”

Scorpius stopped mid off-tune hum, pulling himself away from thoughts about whether he might actually like to be a snail after all. He liked snails. He turned slowly, staring up at the sight of Albus in the now-open doorway, arms folded across a sky blue t-shirt and legs sticking out of… a pair of mossy green boxer shorts. Scorpius blinked, and then did it again in confusion, unsure of which part of this strange tableau to address first. 

“Were you wearing that when you left?” he eventually asked. “I swear you had trousers on. Nice ones, too.” 

He rubbed one eye, remembering belatedly that he was sad about the fact that Albus had left in nice trousers, apparently dressing up for his date. Scorpius frowned. Well, Albus definitely wasn’t dressed up now. 

Albus shrugged, grinning as he stepped into the bathroom. “I got changed when I got home. Which was a while ago.” He leant against the sink. “You’ve been in here for ages.”

Scorpius hummed, frowning again. He didn’t think it was that long, but he was prone to lose track of time when he was comfortable, and he had Charmed the water to stay warm. He sighed and shrugged, too relaxed to think of an answer which Albus couldn't guess from the scene before him. Albus seemed to be on the same page. 

“You are as high as a kite, aren’t you?” he said with a grin, and Scorpius made a face back at him, dimly aware than if the bubbles in the tub moved Albus would be copping an eyeful of the Malfoy legacy. Albus wouldn't want to see that. Would he? No, probably not, at least not without some warning first. Nobody wanted to see their friend’s bits in the bath, really. Except Scorpius probably wouldn’t mind seeing Albus’s. Would he? _Oh, yikes_. Scorpius cringed. _Why are you thinking about that? Don’t think about that_. He tried to arrange his thoughts into something more sensible, but gave up. He sat forward, passing the half-smoked joint to Albus’s extended fingers. 

“Is this what you do when I go out?” Albus’s voice was laboured, as he exhaled the Flit Weed smoke. He flicked his tongue out, picking a fleck of the weed off his lower lip and watching Scorpius's reaction. After Scorpius didn’t reply, he began to watch him more carefully. Scorpius sighed, resting his chin on the arm he was still dangling over the side of the tub. 

“You don’t usually go out without me,” he mumbled after a while, then cringed at how reprimanding it sounded. Reprimanding, and childish, he thought, is how that sounded. Albus was allowed to go out; it wasn’t his problem Scorpius didn’t like it. Scorpius himself was only newly aware that it _was_ a problem, so he couldn't expect Albus to try and accommodate it. 

Albus looked thoughtful for a moment. He rubbed one hand through his hair then walked over to the head of the bath ― and stepped into it. 

“Um.” Scorpius sat up straight, eyes wide. “I’m in...I’m still in here,” he said stupidly, too shocked to say anything else, as Albus began to sit behind him. 

“Yeah, I know, and now I am too. And you’re taking up the whole thing, budge up a bit.”

Scorpius did as he was told, scooting forwards awkwardly to allow Albus to settle against the back of the porcelain edge. Albus let his legs stretch out, his knees appearing in Scorpius’s eyeline. He sighed, contented, legs bracketing Scorpius’s naked sides as he took another slow drag and let the sweet smoke out. 

“This is nice.”

“You just got in the bath with me.” 

“Yup.” 

Scorpius continued to sit stiffly upright in the water, as he tried to figure out what Albus was doing. They didn’t usually bathe together. The tub wasn’t quite big enough for both of them, not without excessively getting in each other’s space, which Scorpius was feeling quite hyper aware of given his own state of undress. He was just thanking the heavens above that at least only one of them was actually naked, when Albus huffed, then grabbed Scorpius’s shoulder and pulled him backwards. Scorpius yelped, his arse squeaking loudly against the base of the bath as he fell against Albus’s chest, which was currently shaking with laughter. 

“Isn’t this _nice_?” Albus repeated happily. 

“You’re mad, Al.” Scorpius laughed, a soft surprised sound. “This is not big enough for two people, and you’ve still got your pants on!”

“Do you want me to take them off?”

“ _No_!” Scorpius could feel himself blushing to the roots of his hair at the thought of that. “Merlin. For heaven's sake, leave your soggy pants on, please,” he mumbled. 

He adjusted himself, trying not to slosh any more water over the edge; the tub was looking dangerously full with both of them in here. He quickly gave up on trying not to lean too much weight against Albus ― really, there was nowhere else he _could_ lean ― and instead rested his back against the wet material over Albus’s chest. He raised his fingers to ask for the joint back, taking it off Albus carefully so as not to drop it. 

“How was your date?” he asked, trying to keep his tone neutral. He thought he did a pretty good job, although that was probably thanks to the joint dangling between his fingers; he mostly just sounded slightly muffled, woozy, happy. 

Behind him Albus blew a raspberry. “It was, hands down, the worst date of my life.” He swished one hand through the water, plucking the joint from Scorpius's limp fingers with the other. Scorpius settled back more comfortably against his chest, having resigned himself to sharing his bath. Albus was right; it was nice, and definitely not the weirdest thing they’d ever done. There had been one or two drunken showers, and they’d fallen asleep in the same bed more often than he could count. Scorpius bit his lip. 

“But he had such a nice name,” he mumbled and Albus snorted a laugh, then coughed on the smoke he’d inhaled. 

“He had an awful name. Not that I can really judge, but that’s never stopped me before. He did have a nice arse, though.”

Scorpius frowned. He pursed his lips and let his head loll on Albus’s shoulder. He concentrated on trying to count the suds on his toes rather than let the jealousy claw its way back up his throat. 

“Can’t have been that nice,” he grumbled, losing the battle with his emotions. Albus laughed again, resting his chin on Scorpius’s head. 

“Yeah. I didn’t like him much, really.” He exhaled slowly, a long plume of smoke curling out of the corner of his mouth as he passed the Flit Weed back to Scorpius. Scorpius took it, unsure if he wanted any more or not. He was feeling pleasantly warm from it, or from Albus’s body heat. One of those things was making him warm, definitely. “I didn't like the bar either,” Albus continued. “Next date I go on, I’m choosing the location.”

“I knew he’d take you somewhere crap.”

“How could you possibly have known that?” Albus settled lower in the water. It sloshed against the sides, moving the bubbles around. Scorpius wondered for a moment if he should try and move some back over himself to cover the fact that he was very naked in here. Having relaxed once more, he found he couldn't muster the energy to care. Scorpius took a slow drag, then blew a smoke ring, his face screwed up in concentration. 

“I just knew,” he mumbled. 

“Very perceptive of you, Scorp. We’ll make a Seer of you yet.” 

“You should’ve let me choose where to go,” Scorpius continued undeterred. He watched as the smoke ring floated out towards the slightly ajar window. “I'm not awful. Probably. Well, my name is a bit weird, but his was worse, and his beard was a different colour to his hair, and Grandmother always says you can’t trust a Wizard whose beard is a different colour to his hair,” Scorpius babbled, while Albus stayed curiously silent. Scorpius was vaguely aware that he should be careful, as Flit Weed did make him prone to talking without thinking, but he was overall too relaxed to be that fussed about it. 

“It’s in case they’re pirates, or something,” he went on. “Although, I’d say you can trust Teddy because his hair and beard are different colours on purpose, and even if he was a pirate I think he’d still be quite a nice one. He’s always nice at Mother’s Sunday lunches, even though those’re awkward as all buggery.” 

“Scorp…”

“Anyway, other than the weird name,” Scorpius prattled, “I’m probably not awful, and I would definitely have picked a better bar. Well, not a bar, I don’t know any bars, but I know restaurants, and I know _you_. I bet he doesn’t. And I would’ve taken you somewhere nice. I _would_ take you somewhere nice, next time, if you wanted to, of course. Somewhere that you would like to go. Or you can pick a bar because I don’t really know any, but either way we’d have a lovely time,” Scorpius finished happily, handing the now slightly damp joint back to Albus, after deciding he definitely didn’t need any more. He was possibly rambling a bit. 

“Um.”

There was a pause before Albus took it from him, and Scorpius frowned, sensing the stillness of the room. He slowly realised what he’d just said. 

_Oh, shit_. 

He tried in vain to figure out how what he’d intended to say and what he’d actually said had somehow gotten confused on the short road from his brain to mouth. Well, he had been thinking that he would like to take Albus somewhere nicer than awful Sydney, he’d been thinking about that all night actually. But he hadn’t meant to say it, not like that at least ― because it sounded a bit like he was asking Albus out. Quite a bit, actually. He opened and shut his mouth a few times, presumably looking as though he was trying to swallow his words back from the awkward atmosphere around them. He pursed his lips, hoping that made him look slightly less stupid. 

“You’d… take me somewhere nice?” Albus asked quietly, his fingers warm and dry as they prised the soggy cigarette from Scorpius’s own limp hand. 

Scorpius let go of it easily, heart racing. He wondered if it was too late to make a joke of what he’d just said. It might not have been, if he could think of a single way to turn that _into_ a joke. _Yeah, I'll take you somewhere nice...To the **cleaners!**_ He wasn't even sure what that meant. He’d heard it in a radio show once, and thought it sounded vaguely amusing, but maybe Albus would think he was saying his clothes smelled. He probably shouldn't insult him right now. Or maybe that would be funny? Scorpius shut his eyes and tried to shut his brain up, too. 

In the corner, the radio started playing a strange flute solo, with the occasional clatter of a tambourine in the background. It was hideous. Scorpius had never felt more awkward in his life. 

Albus was quiet for a moment, then rested his cheek against Scorpius’s slightly damp hair. Scorpius felt immediately relieved, letting out a breath he wasn’t really aware he’d been holding. Even the flutes didn’t sound quite so bad now. 

“So where are we going then?” he asked.

Scorpius sucked on his lower lip, a strange feeling building inside him at the almost implication of what Albus was saying. Was that a joke, or would Albus actually like to go somewhere with him? He couldn’t quite tell, but it sounded a bit like the latter. Which was...well. At least he could stop thinking about submerging his head under the water to stop himself from saying anything further incriminating. But then again, Albus getting in the bath with him did seem a bit incriminating in itself. It was a rather...friendly thing to do. Friendly even for them. Overall, none of this was how he had pictured his bath going, he thought to himself, feeling a ridiculous urge to laugh rising. 

He licked his lips. “Um.” He waved one hand, trying to think of something to say and to keep his face straight. Water dripped down his arm as he pointed at the door. “We could go to the living room?” he mumbled, a laugh tingeing the edge of his words. He heard the smile in Albus’s voice. 

“Oh, wow.” Albus stretched one leg out, his free hand coming to rest in the water. He swished it, further dispersing the suds, and Scorpius collected a small pile of them, resting it above his groin for modesty’s sake. Albus laughed again. “The living room, huh? Sounds exclusive.”

“Yeah.” Scorpius grinned at his suds pile. What was going on here? Had he just asked Albus out, and was Albus agreeing? “It’s actually not that nice in the living room, though. Someone keeps leaving their socks in there,” he said after a while, feeling confused and stoned and happy ― and quite aware that he was hoping Albus was agreeing to go out with him. 

“Well let’s go somewhere nicer, then,” Albus mumbled quietly, then sniffed, adjusting his position slightly and pulling Scorpius back against him a little more firmly. Scorpius tried not to grin even wider. Albus could definitely see his expression, from his slight height advantage. But that sounded like Albus was not only agreeing, but asking him back out in return. He bit his lip; he was dangerously close to getting the giggles. 

“Okay. Um.” 

Scorpius ran a hand over his mouth and then again to wipe away the bubbles he’d just accidentally smeared all over it. Some got in his mouth, and he spat them out, the sudsy flavour persistent on his tongue. He made a face, trying to wipe his mouth again, but each time only managing to get more suds in it, and then on his eyebrow somehow, and suddenly, everything was hilarious. He was in the bath with Albus, stark bollock naked, and he’d definitely just asked him out, because he definitely liked him a bit. A lot. Now he had a mouthful of soap, was possibly going on a date with his best friend, and was also probably a bit gay. Or a lot gay. He didn’t really know how the spectrum of these things worked, but it made a lot of sense, and he was momentarily dumbfounded by how he’d ever thought he could be otherwise. The water sloshed against the edge of the tub as he choked out a loud peal of laughter, the sound of which only made him laugh harder. He was into boys, and everything was _hilarious_. 

“What’s so funny?” Albus sounded equally amused and confused by Scorpius’s suddenly shaking shoulders. 

Scorpius shook his head, trying to draw in enough breath to speak, and on the third try he managed it. 

“I think I ― I think I might be g ― gay,” he stammered out around his laughter. 

“Oh. Oh, okay.” Albus’s voice was soft, light, relieved. He was probably smiling. Scorpius wanted to turn around and look, but he was so comfortable. He also wasn't sure that he actually had the coordination to move and control his borderline hysterical laughter at the same time. “I kinda thought you might be, yeah.”

“R ― really?” Scorpius managed around his shaking laughter. “How did ― I didn’t!” 

Albus snorted an equally muddled-sounding laugh. “He says, naked and between my legs.” 

Scorpius laughed harder. His stomach was beginning to hurt. “You got in with _me_!”

“True.” There was a short pause before Albus added, “but you’re still naked and between my legs, and you sort of just asked me out.”

“Oh Merlin, I can’t breathe!” Scorpius curled his legs up, one arm around his stomach as he kept laughing. He couldn’t keep it in. Somehow, after an evening’s worth of frustration and queasy jealousy, the plateauing of his sexual confusion and a badly rolled joint of Flit Weed was causing the laughter to bubble out of him in loud, ridiculous waves. He was gay. He was definitely in the bath with Albus, and he’d definitely just accidentally inserted himself into Albus’s future dating prospects. Probably not that accidentally. Possibly a bit on purpose. He swallowed, breathing out and trying to control himself. 

“D ― did you say yes, then?” he asked, head resting back against Albus’s shoulder. It was bony, but not uncomfortable. Scorpius could get used to this, he thought, then grinned when he realised he actually _could_. Albus rested his chin back on the top of Scorpius’s head. Scorpius liked that, too. 

“I’ll pick you up at eight,” Albus mumbled, his chin digging slightly into Scorpius's head as his mouth moved. “Oh Merlin, what is it now?” he asked as Scorpius’s shoulders began to shake with laughter again. 

“Pick me up from _where_?” Scorpius gasped. “We live together!”

“Oh, right. The…” Albus waved a hand dismissively, beginning to laugh himself. “I dunno, the hallway,” he managed before dissolving into giggles. 

“And take me to the living room?”

“Yeah,” Albus laughed. “No! We’ll go to a restaurant. A bar. I’ll take you out of the house.”

“And then bring me back into it?” 

“Well. Are you that easy?

“I _live_ here!” Scorpius’s face hurt from laughing. “Where am I supposed to go then, if it goes badly?” 

“You can sleep on the porch.” 

“What ― _you_ can sleep on the porch!”

“Stop laughing so much, you’re getting water all over your towel!” Albus wrapped an arm around Scorpius’s shoulders, laughing so much himself that he was responsible for at least half of the water on the floor. A lot of the bubbles were gone, and Scorpius swallowed down the urge to laugh about that too; he needed to keep still and retain as many of them as he could, for modesty’s sake. 

“So, it’s settled,” Albus continued somewhat breathlessly. “I’ll pick you up at eight, take you to, err, outside of the house, and then bring you back into it. Settled. It’s a date”

“Okay.” Scorpius dropped his head back on Albus’s shoulder, stretching his legs and his sore stomach muscles out. “It’s a date,” he repeated grinning stupidly at the ceiling. He frowned. “Wait, when?” 

“Like,” Albus shrugged. “Whenever. Tomorrow?”

“Can’t,” Scorpius replied. “Night shift. I’m rostered at the Magi-Veterinary Clinic every Saturday for the next month, for my training...” he waved a wet hand, “thingy.” He let his eyes slip closed, feeling warm and tired all of a sudden. He could feel Albus’s chest rising and falling as he breathed; it was impossibly soothing. 

“Oh, that sucks. What about Sunday, then? Did you have plans for Sunday?”

Scorpius made a face. He didn’t have Sunday plans, other than to sleep in really late, eat some yoghurt, and then do as little as possible. Beyond that, he had hoped to spend it either hanging out with Albus like they usually did, or if Albus was busy, then he had planned on sulking about Albus and his date. He was pretty happy to let those plans be cancelled.

“No, I’m free Sunday,” Scorpius said softly, smiling and swishing his hand lazily through the water, eyes still shut.

“Cool.” Albus yawned, then leant his chin against Scorpius’s head. “It’s a date,” he repeated happily.

-:-:-:-

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The song Scorpius is listening to in the bath is [El Condor Pasa (If I Could)](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pey29CLID3I) by Simon and Garfunkel, which has been stuck in the author's head since writing that scene, and will possibly be stuck in there forever.
> 
> [Comments] and [kudos] are love! Come say hi on [LJ ](http://shiftylinguini.livejournal.com/profile/)or [tumblr ](https://www.tumblr.com/dashboard)♥


	3. Clementine and Cherry

-:-:-:-

Their first date wasn’t in their living room.

Nor was their second; Albus was true to his word, and took Scorpius somewhere nice. It was less awkward than Scorpius had anticipated, and mostly just like every other meal they’d had out together, only with a lot more blushing on Scorpius’s end than he’d ever experienced in his life. They’d ordered some rather fancy wine, which neither of them liked, and which Scorpius had managed to dribble down his shirt front when Albus sucked some of the sauce from his steak au poivre off of his fingers. He felt rather hot when Albus did things like that, or when Albus leaned over to read the dessert menu with him, his breath gusting over his cheek. Scorpius had ended up so flustered he’d ordered a plum mousse which was, as it sounded, awful, and which he was too nervous to actually eat anyway.

If Scorpius’d had any doubts about whether he fancied Albus before this, then they were gone by the end of the night, but they’d been quickly replaced by some new and terribly nerve-wracking ones ― mostly about the looming issue of sex. That one made Scorpius blush even more, whenever he noticed how pink and soft looking Albus’s mouth was, the way his hair always fell in his eyes and the way he smiled up at Scorpius through it. He’d never slept with anyone before, and he knew he was getting terribly ahead of himself by even thinking about it, but he also couldn't seem to stop thinking about it. It was exciting, but also completely terrifying, and Scorpius really hoped he wasn’t going to stuff it up. 

Nothing happened that first night, nor the second, other than Albus putting his arm around Scorpius as they walked home, and then leaning his head on Scorpius’s shoulder when they ate ice cream on the couch once inside. Albus had been working at Fortescue’s as apprentice ice cream maker for a few months now, and as a result they had a near constant supply of Albus’s experimental flavours. The one they were currently eating ― clementine and cherry ― was much nicer than the awful plum mousse. 

Scorpius was relieved that Albus didn’t seem to want to do more than sit comfortably next to each other, and almost said it, but he figured Albus knew. He didn’t really have the greatest idea what he would be expected to do in the bedroom, but Albus also knew that. Scorpius had never gone below the waist, with anyone, and not exactly for lack of offers. Lack of interest, however, had been what stood in the way. He liked girls well enough, enjoyed their company, but the idea of having sex with them had always been frightening and confusing for some reason, which he thought he maybe understood now. He’d always assumed that there was something wrong with him, or with his sex drive; somehow that seemed easier to digest than the idea that he just wasn’t attracted to girls. 

Sitting next to Albus in their front room, his arm warm against Scorpius’s own and his hair tickling Scorpius’s chin, Scorpius felt the stirring of interest inside him. There was warmth in his legs, a fluttering nervousness in his chest and stomach. It felt new, and exciting, and it did make him feel a bit highly-strung, but when Albus put his hand on his knee, he found for once that the touch wasn’t frightening. It felt like anticipation. He wasn’t sure if that was because he felt more comfortable being touched by a boy, or because he felt more comfortable being touched by Albus. Possibly it was both, but either way ― he felt more comfortable. 

They kissed on their third date, on their front porch. 

It was tentative at first and then anything but. Scorpius ran his hands into Albus’s hair, tangled them in the almost ridiculous mop of it, thinking in the back of his mind that this was not like other kisses he’d had. This was not like kissing Rose, or Sarah, or the shy kiss he’d shared with Lorcan just after she had transitioned, and which had ended with the pair of them getting the giggles and going to the library instead. He’d liked those people, but he hadn’t felt anything more than that, and in some way he guessed he had thought that was just what kissing was like; it was a thing you did with your tongue, until you could stop doing it and go and find out what your mates were up to. 

He wasn’t prepared for how much he liked the feeling of Albus’s lips against his own, of Albus’s broad palms on his hips. Every point of contact between them became the centre of Scorpius’s attention, and when Albus kissed his jaw and then down his neck, he felt his trousers get even tighter. No one had ever made him feel like that before, and Scorpius felt that wonderful, exciting, _scary_ anticipation build within him again. Things might have gone further that night, if Albus hadn’t pulled back, seeming to pick up on Scorpius’s tense posture, on the tightening of his fingers on Albus’s shoulders. Scorpius had babbled an apology, feeling awkward and silly. 

“Sorry, I just got a bit―” he started, trying to calm his breathing and will his growing erection away. Was it normal to get hard from a kiss? He really had no point of comparison here. 

Albus cut him off with a kiss. “It’s fine,” he said into his mouth, then pulled back once more. “Smart move, really. Probably would have embarrassed myself out here, otherwise.” His smile was lopsided, his face flushed, and Scorpius felt infinitely better at knowing that Albus was in something of a similar state himself. And then he felt a bit more turned on at the idea of it, too. Merlin, maybe he needed a cold shower.

“Wanna go inside?” Albus grinned again, as he fished for his keys. 

“Yeah.” Scorpius waited a moment, before summoning his courage up from his shoes and shyly adding, “and... maybe make out some more on the sofa?” 

Albus dropped his keys in his haste to agree. 

They didn’t have sex until after their fifth date. Well, an entire night after, really. Their fifth date had ended with more kissing, which Scorpius was rapidly finding himself very keen on, but which had had to be cut short in order for Scorpius to go to the Magi-Vet Clinic.

“Every Saturday for a month,” he’d grumbled, shoving his feet into his shoes then grabbing his Animal Healer robes off the cloak rack. “Seemed like a great idea at the time, when I agreed to it.”

“Oh, it’s fine.” Albus tucked his legs up on the sofa, his hair quite messy and his t-shirt rumpled. “I’ll be here when you get back.”

Scorpius paused in struggling into his cloak, and struggling not to think about kissing Albus. Albus’s mouth was a bit red, and his shirt was sitting askew because Scorpius had pulled it that way, and he really wanted to do more of that instead of go to his work training. “I get back around five am,” he said ruefully, and Albus looked contemplative. 

“In that case, I will not be here,” he looked pointedly across to the hallway, where their rooms were. “I will be in my bed.” He swallowed, then rested his chin on his knee and Scorpius finally got his cloak, and most of his buttons done up; he was on his second try, unable to get his wits together enough to do the sodding things up properly. His shift was going to be hell. 

“I might still be up, though,” Albus said quietly, and Scorpius looked up from finally getting the last button to sit in its fabric hole. 

“At five in the morning?” Scorpius grinned, looking around for his wand. “Why on earth would you be up ―” he stopped. “Oh.” A flush crept up his neck and over his cheeks. Albus meant he would wait up for him. In his bed. “Oh, right,” he croaked. “Would you actually be awake then?” 

Albus shrugged, looking a little red around the ears himself. “Might be. It's not that late.” 

“It’s nearly morning.” 

Albus shrugged again, now looking quite red around the ears and cheeks. “Yeah, guess so. I might be asleep.” He swallowed. 

Scorpius nodded, feeling a bit off kilter. He shifted his weight from foot to foot, while Albus unfolded himself from the couch and stood up in front of it. 

“I might not be, though. You should check, when you get home, if I’m awake,” Albus said. “If you want to, that is. You’ll probably be tired.”

They were nearly the same height, similar builds, but Albus looked so different to him. His dark hair was getting long now, his eyes such a vibrant green in comparison to Scorpius’s blue-ish grey. His jeans hung low on his hips, the line of his underwear just visible over the top of them, where his t-shirt had rucked up. Scorpius had done that, slipped his hand under Albus’s t-shirt and up his side, felt the barest touch of warm skin there, before his alarm had gone off.

Scorpius really, really, really wanted to keep kissing him. 

“I might not be tired,” he said quietly, his face red and his voice a fraction shaky. He had about four minutes before he needed to Apparate to Medicine Alley, just off Diagon; he needed to find his wand, get his shoes on, fix his hair, and somehow stick his brain back in his head in that time. He was definitely not going to be tired at the end of his shift, not if Albus was waiting for him. 

“I probably won’t be tired,” he repeated, then cleared his throat, Accioing his wand and fumbling to catch it. “But you will be,” he murmured, balancing on one foot and jamming his remaining shoe onto the other. “You might fall asleep.”

“Just wake me up, if I do,” Albus replied, smiling. “I’d kinda like to just sleep in the same bed as you, even if we don’t do anything,” he added sincerely and Scorpius gave up on his shoes, and on arriving on time, and kissed Albus for the next three minutes before he flew out the door.

Scorpius was right. His shift was hell. 

Within half an hour of starting he’d managed to knock over a Restorative Potion, and break two glass phials. That would have been okay, if he’d gotten his head on properly from then on. By the time two am rolled by, however, Scorpius had also managed to accidentally let a Night Parrot out of its cage, had trodden on a Crup’s tail during a routine check-up, and had banged his leg painfully on the Medicinal Potion cart about six times. He could feel a bruise forming on his thigh. 

At 4am, he had most of his jobs sorted, but the blasted parrot was still loose, and happily hurling insults at him as it avoided capture. 

“What is wrong with you tonight, Scorpius!” his supervisor asked, half exasperated and half, well, fondly exasperated. “You’re not usually like this.” 

“Sorry, Jessie. I’m just a bit...” Scorpius aimed another Netting Spell at the elusive parrot, and missed again. The parrot squawked happily, and Scorpius sighed as the shimmery conjured net drifted towards the ground and disintegrated. “I'm just a bit distracted.” 

“ _Bwawk_. He’s an idiot,” the parrot supplied helpfully, and Scorpius frowned dejectedly. He did feel a bit terrible about being so bad this evening; he liked Jessie, and he didn't want her, or nocturnal parrots for that matter, to think he wasn't very good at his training, especially considering the reason for it was because he couldn't keep his mind out of his trousers. Or out of Albus’s. 

“Oh, shut up, Kevin,” Jessie told the bird, which puffed its feathers, looking like it was having the time of its life. It squawked again loudly, and informed Jessie that she too was an idiot. By the time the parrot had also told the hat stand, the Crup, and the portrait of the previous owner that they were all idiots, Scorpius realised he shouldn't take it too personally. 

“Tell you what,” Jessie said, turning to Scorpius. “I'll get this pain in the arse back in his cage ―” 

“ ― _bwawk_. I’m an idiot ―” 

“That’s nice, Kevin. So I’ll deal with this, and you can knock off early, okay?” 

“Really?” 

“Sure.” She smiled fondly at Scorpius’s surprised face. “Go home to whoever is distracting you so much. Give her my regards,” she added with a wink, and Scorpius was in such a rush to leave he didn't correct her. 

He Apparated into the back garden with a soft crack and the crunch of his shoes on the slightly damp grass, then made for the back door. The wards were Charmed to let him in, and to stop any Muggles from peeking over the fence, and he had only to wave his key over the lock to slip the door open. He eased inside, careful not to make too much noise, although he suspected the loudest thing in the dark hallway at the moment was his thumping heartbeat. He dearly hoped Albus would be awake, but he was hideously nervous about what would happen if he was. 

Their rooms were opposite each other, one on each side of the carpeted hallway which led to the kitchen, and to the back door which Scorpius had come in through. There was a clock in the hall which told him the time was currently 4:37am, meaning Jessie had let him go a little under a half hour early, but it looked like it had been in vain; Scorpius could see, or rather could not see, that it didn’t look like anyone was still awake. There was no light coming in from under Albus’s door, and none coming from the living room. It looked as though Albus had wisely gone to sleep. 

Scorpius sighed in disappointment, and then again at himself for being disappointed. He should have known that expecting Albus to stay up until dawn for him was ridiculous, and spending an entire evening’s shift obsessing over it was a bit ridiculous too. He ought to go to sleep now, as soon as possible, and not make a fuss over it. Albus had said he should wake him up, but it felt like a bit of an awful thing to do to someone when they’d nodded off. 

He crept up the hallway, trying to make as little sound as he could, and then paused when he heard a faint noise coming Albus’s room. He crept a little closer, listening as hard as he could, and ended up right outside Albus’s door before he could really make it out. 

It was definitely Albus’s voice, which meant he was definitely awake. Which meant Scorpius should definitely go in there, and stop standing with his shoes in one hand in the middle of the hallway, like a stunned idiot.

He definitely kept standing in the hallway like an idiot. Maybe the parrot was onto something after all. 

It seemed that after an evening spent not being able to wait to get home to Albus, Scorpius now didn't quite know how to proceed. Should he knock? Should he call out that he was home, and interrupt whatever it was Albus was muttering to himself? Should he go into his own bedroom first, and get into his pyjamas? On further thought, that seemed both slightly presumptuous and also terribly sensible, and not being able to think of anything better, Scorpius began to turn and head towards his own door ― just as Albus’s opened. 

“Hey.”

Scorpius dropped his shoes, their landing muted by the carpet. He swallowed, feeling bizarrely caught out, as Albus stood in the door, his feet bare and his pyjama bottoms askew. He looked very sleepy, but not as though he’d been sleeping. 

“You're home.” Albus rubbed one slightly bleary eye.

“I am.”

“And you're sort of… lurking in the hallway?”

“Um. Yes,” Scorpius whispered, then cleared his throat; no point being quiet when the sole occupants of the house were awake. “I wasn't sure if I should knock, or perhaps you were busy doing.. well I thought I heard talking?” Scorpius belatedly realised he’d started whispering again. Albus smiled, that broad and easy grin that Scorpius adored, then shook his head

“Oh, that! That was. Well…” Albus stood aside, letting Scorpius see the end of his bed ― and the large assembly of folded parchment ducks arranged at the end of it. 

Scorpius stepped inside. He tried to think of something to say. 

“Right. Um. And so you were talking… to the ducks.”

Albus laughed, shaking his head again. “No, I wasn't talking to them. I made them. I was trying to Charm them to quack.” 

“Oh! Oh,” Scorpius blinked. “Well, they’re very nice,” he lied, eyeing them appraisingly. They were not nice, not really, but the strangeness of it all was definitely helping his nerves. “And do they quack?” 

“Well…” Albus leant forward, prodding one especially badly folded duck with his finger; it made an odd _ernk_ sort of sound, then toppled over sideways. “No,” Albus stated bluntly. “They do that.” 

Scorpius laughed gently. “Well, it's actually the politest bird I’ve met this evening,” he said turning to Albus. 

“Oh yeah? Shit evening, was it?” 

“No,” Scorpius shrugged. “And also yes. Why were you Charming paper ducks?” 

“To stay awake,” Albus said bashfully. “And because I was bored. And then because it was actually a bit fun. But mostly just… to stay awake.” 

“You didn't have to wai ―” 

“No, I wanted to,” Albus said firmly over Scorpius’s worried voice. “I might’ve not made it much longer anyway, though,” he joked, wiping his palms on his pyjama bottoms. “Um. So do you want to…” he looked at the bed, and then away quickly. “We don't have to do anything!” he repeated somewhat urgently, as if anticipating Scorpius might bolt any second at the prospect of bed sharing. “We can just sleep. Or, I mean we can do stuff as well, if you do want to. But we don't have to. Is what I'm saying,” Albus trailed off, looking both tremendously awkward and incredibly handsome, Scorpius thought. He smiled, somewhat shakily. 

“Can I borrow something to sleep in?”

“Yes! Yeah, ‘course.” Albus rummaged in a drawer, producing a pair of faded sweatpants and a singlet. “I'll just, look this way,” Albus said, turning around and facing the wall after handing the items to Scorpius. 

Scorpius knew he had his own room only a matter of meters away, and his own night clothes in it, but he liked the idea of wearing Albus’s. He liked the way Albus was looking nervous, yet happy, and the way it seemed to mirror his own feelings. Nervous, yes, he had a swarm of butterflies in his stomach, but it wasn’t an entirely bad feeling. He’d slept in the same bed as Albus before, and he felt completely sure in the knowledge that tonight could be exactly like those other, significantly platonic nights ― or it could be entirely different. He felt himself flush, as he finished dressing and then slipped under the blankets, only to have something to do. He sort of thought he might like it to be different, tonight, even if it was only a bit of kissing. And maybe he could slip his hand up Albus’s shirt again, that was nice. Maybe Albus would kiss his neck, like he had done a few times, and which made Scorpius almost dizzy with how good it felt, he thought as Albus flicked off the lamp and got into bed beside him. Yeah, maybe he would like that. 

It was Scorpius who made the first move, after waiting for Albus to settle in. And then waiting a little longer for both of them to shift about awkwardly, pretending to get comfortable but really sounding the other out for how much contact they wanted. Their knees knocked together, but somehow they ended up comfortably lying side by side. Perhaps it was the late hour, or the darkness, but Scorpius didn’t feel so nervous now he was starting to warm up under the blankets. Sleep deprivation had always had a bit of an effect on his impulse control, as well. He wanted to see what it would be like to kiss Albus like this, lying in bed with him. 

The answer was not exactly what he expected; it was clumsy, and borderline concussive. While the darkness seemed to make him bold, it definitely didn't do much for his aim or his depth perception, he realised as he solidly banged his head into Albus’s. 

“Wha ― ow!”

“Oh shit, sorr―” 

“No, no, it's fine, come back,” Albus grabbed the front of his shirt, pulling him forwards. “I think you got the worst of it.” 

“Merlin,” Scorpius resisted being pulled, burying his face in the pillow instead. His eye was sore from where he’d made contact with Albus’s forehead, and his dignity was in tatters. “Oh god.”

“It's fine, Scorp.” 

“I just head butted you!” 

“Was that not what you were trying to do?” Albus joked, and Scorpius groaned miserably. 

“No! I was trying to kiss you!” Scorpius rolled onto his back, rubbing his hand over his face while Albus laughed. He winced when he touched his left brow, feeling the tenderness of a new bruise forming there. 

“Hey, it's fine.” Albus pushed up onto his elbow, leaning over him slightly. “Want me to turn the light on?” 

“No, I want to crawl under the bed and never be seen again,” Scorpius mumbled. Albus laughed again, the puff of his breath warm on Scorpius’s cheek. 

“No, don't do that.” He reached out, fingers bumping over Scorpius’s chin to his jaw, feeling for where his face was in the dark. He ran his nose against Scorpius’s, the softest brush of lips against his own, and kissed him gently. 

“Want to go to sleep?” he mumbled against Scorpius’s lips. “Try again another time?” Scorpius nodded, his embarrassment ebbing away. Another time was a good idea. Hopefully neither of them would need protective headgear for it. 

“Yeah,” he agreed after realising that it was too dark for Albus to see his nod. 

Albus kissed him again, a gentle peck of a thing, and breathed out happily. “Good. Now move your arm up… yeah, like that. And if you let me put my leg,” Albus shuffled, and Scorpius complied sleepily, “okay, perfect.” 

He lay his head on Scorpius’s chest, hair tickling Scorpius’s chin and nose pressed just against the ridge of Scorpius's collarbone. Scorpius let himself relax. It was comfortable, with Albus’s leg across his thigh, and his head moving with the rise and fall of Scorpius’s chest. Scorpius hesitated a moment then moved his hand into Albus’s hair, ran his fingers through the mess of it. He felt the warmth of Albus’s breath as he sighed. He settled down into the blankets, and turned his face to Albus’s hair. 

“I really like you,” he whispered, face burning as he said it. He’d said it a dozen times, but it was different now. It carried the same amount of meaning and affection as it always had but also a little more now. He chewed his lip, letting the sleepiness settle over him like a fog, as Albus moved his hand over Scorpius's arm, held his wrist in a light grip. He squeezed it gently, curling himself a little more tightly around Scorpius’s side. 

“Yeah. I really like you, too.”

-:-:-:-

Scorpius woke up hard.

He’d woken up hard before. The day before, for example, and the day before that. He was used to this, used to either ignoring it, or more often than not to sorting it out, sometimes quickly or sometimes slowly, face buried into the warmth of his pillow and hands slipping into his pyjama bottoms. 

He was not used to there being someone else in the bed with him when it happened. The fact that it was Albus, and that his thigh was resting over Scorpius’s groin, wasn’t making it any easier to process ― or ignore. 

Scorpius shifted slightly, blinking himself properly awake. The morning sunlight was sluggishly trickling in from under the curtains, and the faint pallor of it ― and Scorpius’s headache ― suggested they’d only been asleep for a few hours; it couldn't be later than nine am. He rubbed one eye, trying carefully not to jostle Albus who was still dozing on his chest, one hand tangled up Scorpius’s singlet and his leg swung easily across Scorpius’s own. His thigh was warm, and firm, as it lay across Scorpius’s erection, and Scorpius chewed his lower lip as Albus moved the barest fraction. Scorpius swallowed, then bit down on a sigh when Albus did it again, moving his leg back and forth over the hard line of his cock. 

It felt really bloody good. 

Scorpius rolled his lip between his teeth, unsure whether to pinch Albus and wake him up, or continue to lie there and enjoy it. He wasn’t even sure if Albus was asleep or not ― was it possible to move like that, and not have woken yourself up? Scorpius didn’t know, and couldn't tell. Albus’s breathing was steady, even, his hand warm as it brushed against Scorpius’s side up under his singlet, and ― 

Scorpius stilled, a rush of excitement in his belly, and lower. Albus was definitely awake. 

“Hey,” Albus murmured, the tentative brush of his fingers sending goosebumps up Scorpius’s side. 

“‘Morn ― _oh_ ,” Scorpius started to reply, then broke off on a moan as Albus hitched his leg a little higher. 

“Do you want me to stop?” Albus whispered groggily, his voice muddled with sleep and Scorpius bit back another moan. 

“Not really,” Scorpius murmured, and he meant it. He was nervous, as always, but he wanted this. 

“Okay.” Albus’s breathed gusted over Scorpius’s neck as he pushed himself up on one elbow, then leaned down to kiss him. Scorpius kissed back gingerly, his coordination becoming unsteady and his breath hitching as Albus pressed himself against his thigh. He slipped his leg between Scorpius’s own, lips moving gently against Scorpius’s, and Scorpius sighed at the sensation of it all. He timidly moved his hands to Albus’s hips, across to his lower back, then did it again more confidently when Albus made a soft sound against his mouth. 

“Is this good?” he asked, rolling his hips slightly. Scorpius pursed his lips against the sounds that wanted to fall out of them. That was more than good. The weight of Albus’s thigh against his groin, the warm press of his cloth covered erection against Scorpius’s hip ― it felt incredible. 

He nodded as much to Albus, not really trusting his voice. He gripped at Albus’s hips a little harder, letting his legs fall a little wider. He felt Albus moan into his mouth as he kissed him again, slipping his tongue inside before pulling back to nip at his lips. Scorpius tried to chase the kiss as Albus pulled away, then gasped when Albus kissed over his jaw instead, down to his neck. He gasped again, louder, as Albus sucked at the skin there. 

Albus had kissed him there before, and Scorpius had liked it, but with the roll of his hips against Albus’s, his thigh against his cock, it was almost too much. He shut his eyes, resting his forehead against Albus’s shoulder and curling his toes as the pleasure rolled through him. He was hard, so hard, and he could feel that Albus was too. He brought his leg up so his foot rested on the bed, heat flushing up his neck as he arched it back to give Albus more room to kiss his throat. Albus moaned again, the rhythm of his hips becoming uneven and erratic. He ran his teeth over the line of Scorpius’s neck, and Scorpius made a strangled sound, hips jerking off the bed as he came, sudden and hard, against Albus’s thigh. 

“Oh, fu ―” he gasped again, his eyes squeezing shut tightly as the pleasure jolted through him, from the soles of his feet to his scalp, followed by a second wave of embarrassment; he hadn’t even gotten his _clothes_ off before he’d come. He wanted to feel worse about it, but he found he felt too good for any lasting mortification to really settle in. 

“Did you just ― _ah_!” Albus kissed him again, hard and messy, his hips jerking before he stilled, warmth spreading across Scorpius’s hip. 

“Fuck. Fuck!” Albus panted, dropping his head onto the pillow and his chest against Scorpius’s. They lay for a moment, catching their breath, until Albus pushed back onto his elbows, looking down at Scorpius and smiling lopsidedly. “That was really quick,” he mumbled apologetically, and Scorpius couldn't help it; he snorted a laugh despite himself. 

“Was it?” he pretended to inquire, knowing full well that it had been. Albus kissed him gently, nodding. His face was flushed, and there was a damp spot on the front of Scorpius’s pyjamas in two places. He grimaced at the sensation and Albus made another apologetic face. 

“Here, let me,” he pushed up onto his palms, looking down between them. “My wand is… Ah, there we go.” he reached out for it, tucking his hair away as he did so. Scorpius braced for the cold sensation of the Cleaning Charm as it washed over his oversensitive skin. Albus settled his wand back on the side table, resting on his heels as he regarded Scorpius. A slightly awkward air settled over them, but not enough to dispel the happiness in Scorpius’s stomach. He’d just had sex, and with Albus, and it had been _good_. He felt euphoric.

Scorpius smiled, opening his mouth to say something ― when he was interrupted by the sound of a loud, sing song voice in the hallway. 

“Hello-oo? Al?”

“Oh, _balls_!” Albus swore as he all but fell off the bed, and raced to the door. “What’s he doing here?”

“Who?” Scorpius asked with alarm. “How are they in the ―”

“Albus, get up you lazy sod, we’re meant to be visiting Nan today!”

Scorpius winced. “Oh. James.”

“Shit!” Albus struggled to neaten his hair, but gave up almost instantly. “I forgot I was meeting him! And that he always bloody lets himself in,” Albus grumbled, struggling into a clean t-shirt while Scorpius watched. 

“Well, he is on the lease,” Scorpius said reasonably. 

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” Albus mumbled distractedly. “Right, I’ll go get rid of him and be back in a ―” He looked awkwardly at Scorpius. “Err. Unless you. Well I’m assuming you don’t want to come out with me to greet him?”

Scorpius straightened, something a little bit unpleasant unfurling in his stomach. He shook his head. He didn’t want to see James, not right now. He liked Albus’s brother, a lot, but he’d just got off with Albus in his bed, and he was sure it would be obvious. Would it be obvious? Well, it would be if they emerged from the bedroom together. Scorpius shook his head again. 

“No, I’m… I’ll wait here,” he said, forcing a smile. Albus flashed a grin back at him, before slipping out the door, just as James reached it. 

“Al! There you are.” Scorpius heard James pause. “And you are still in your PJ’s. Right. So, you forgot about today, then?” 

“Yeah. Look, come into the kitchen ―”

“Why is your shirt on inside out? Merlin, what did you do last night, Al, you look ruined. And whose shoes are these in the hallway… Hey, are those ― ”

“Kitchen! Kitchen, come on Jamie.”

Scorpius listened to their voices trailing of, their footsteps soft on the carpet. He sighed, then flopped back down on the bed. He should get up, get dressed, but he had no clothes in here except his work gear. He would wear something of Albus’s, but maybe that was a bit obvious. He grimaced at the idea of his shoes being left in the hallway. Combine that with James seeing Scorpius in Albus’s clothes, and that was _really_ obvious. He was just contemplating trying to see if Albus had his dad’s Invisibility Cloak with him, when the door opened. Albus tiptoed back in, closed the door, then leant back against it. 

“He’s gone,” he whispered, looking mildly alarmed. Scorpius raised his brows back at him. 

“Oh? That’s good, right?

“Yeahhh.” Albus’s throat worked as he swallowed. “He’s gonna tell Nan I was sick and couldn't make it.”

“That’s nice of him,” Scorpius said, still frowning at Albus's odd expression. “Isn’t it? You look peaky.”

“No, it is!” Albus ran his fingers through his hair. “Um. But he also...might have figured out that you were in here,” Albus mumbled in a rush. 

Scorpius’s eyes widened. “Oh.”

“Yeah.”

“Oh, well that’s...fine?” he tried. 

“Sorry,” Albus said, sagging against the wall. “It was the shoes. And your door being open but no one in there. He sort of guessed, and I didn’t want to deny it. I hope that was okay?” He sighed, and Scorpius smiled at that. 

“No, that was okay. I’m glad you didn’t deny it,” he said honestly, and Albus sagged again, this time in relief.

“Oh, thank Merlin. Bloody James,” he laughed padding back to the bed. “Um. He won’t tell anyone, though. He’s not like that. He’ll probably make faces at you when you see him next though,” Albus added with a grin that looked more happy than annoyed that his brother knew about them. Scorpius thought he probably was; Albus wasn’t great at keeping secrets from his siblings. 

Scorpius was sort of used to keeping parts of himself secret from his family, he realised. A strange feeling settled over him. 

Scorpius turned onto his side, as Albus got back in next to him and pulled the blankets up around them both. He faced Scorpius. 

“So. Before the whole brother invasion. Um,” Albus paused, smiling shyly. “How was that?”

“Mm. Good,” Scorpius mumbled, swallowing thickly. 

“Why do you look unhappy, then?” Albus asked, non-judgmentally, and Scorpius turned to face him, surprised. 

“I’m not unhappy.” He smiled in confusion. “Do I look unhappy?”

“Well,” Albus flicked some of Scorpius hair out of his eyes, pretending to inspect him. “You also look really hot, and really tired, and there’s a bruise on your head. And it kinda looks like someone mauled your neck,” he said shyly and Scorpius laughed, feeling himself blush. “But yeah, you look...pensive, maybe.”

“Oh, that’s a big word for you.”

“Shut up.” Albus grinned, then kissed him on the corner of his mouth. “Was it...not how you were expecting? We can do more next time. Or less. I don’t know.” 

Scorpius shook his head. “No, nothing like that. That was good. Better than good. That was...the first time I’ve ever done anything like that,” he admitted, feeling his face heat up further. 

“I knew that.” Albus frowned. “Is that making you feel bad? That doesn’t bother me at all,” Albus continued quickly, as Scorpius half shrugged. 

“I’m probably not going to be very good at this sort of thing,” he murmured. Albus widened his eyes incredulously. 

“Not very good,” Albus deadpanned. “Were you not there, about twenty minutes ago? Did I just get off with someone else?” Albus said, his tone disbelieving. “Have you been Obliviated while I was out the room?” he asked seriously, trying to open one of Scorpius’s eyes to check his pupils. “Maybe that bump on the head was worse than we expected. I have got a very thick skull, at least that’s what James says―”

“Okay, okay,” Scorpius laughed. Albus pulled back to look at him. 

“You know I haven’t actually slept with that many people myself,” Albus said earnestly. 

“More than me, though.”

“Yeah, but more than none is still not necessarily that many,” Albus joked gently, smiling, and Scorpius felt himself smile back tentatively. “I’m not…” Albus broke off, frowning as he looked for the words. 

“Are you trying to think of a nice way to say that your expectations are not very high?” Scorpius suggested, half cheekily, half earnestly. 

“No!” Albus swatted at him playfully. “More like… you're not capable of not meeting my expectations. Whatever they are. You’ve already blown way past them. So,” Albus licked his lips. “So, don't worry about that side of things, yeah?” 

Scorpius nodded, more than pleased with that answer. Albus had already blown past his expectations too, in so far as he’d had any. And while he had to admit that he did feel self-conscious about his lack of experience, that wasn’t the sole reason for his strange unsettled feeling. 

“So what’s wrong?” Albus waited a beat, then kissed him affectionately. “Spit it out, Malfoy,” he murmured into Scorpius’s skin, and Scorpius laughed softly. 

“I really enjoyed that,” he said quietly, and Albus smiled back easily. 

“Oh. Well, good!” he said, still looking somewhat confused. “Me too. That’s good, isn’t it?”

Scorpius rolled onto his side, face half pressed into the pillow. “That was the first time I’ve done something like that. And also the first time I’ve _wanted_ to do anything like that. With anyone.” His tone was barely audible, face half pressed into the pillow as it was, but Albus heard him all the same. He was quiet for a moment, before he made a low sound of understanding. 

“Ohh,” Albus let his breath out softly. “Hey Scorpius,” Albus shuffled a little closer, “are you...maybe having a bit of a freak out about the liking boys part?” he asked gently, and Scorpius wrinkled his nose further. 

“Might be,” he mumbled into the pillow. It sounded as stupid as he’d expected once he’d said it out loud. He wasn’t quite sure why he was suddenly feeling strange about being gay, after having felt rather okay about it the last few weeks, but he suspected it had a lot to do with that what they’d just done ― and how much he’d enjoyed it. It felt real all of a sudden, and so did the fact that he was probably going to have to tell people. Albus’s brother had figured it out almost instantly, and other people would too. Scorpius was definitely going to have to tell his parents before that happened. 

“I thought you were taking it all rather well,” Albus ran a hand through Scorpius’s hair, leant on his other elbow. “Is this because of my ridiculous big brother, and his terrible timing and incredible ability to always sniff out who is shagging who?” Albus asked genuinely. “Because he really won’t tell anyone, honestly, he’s got his own stuff going on and he gets what this is like. About needing to tell people at your own pace,” he said earnestly. 

Scorpius laughed softly. “No, it’s not him.” He sighed. “And it also is,” he admitted. “But it’s not like that. It was something Jessie said last night as well, about assuming you were, um, that I was distracted because of a girl. I guess I just…” He licked his lips stalling, then scratched his head. “I'm gonna have to tell people, aren’t I? Tell my dad. I didn’t think about that before now.” 

“Your dad won't care, will he? Or your mum. She’s nice.” 

Scorpius shrugged, feeling anxious. “I hope not,” he answered honestly. “Did yours? 

Albus shrugged, the blankets slipping off one shoulder. “No?” he said hesitantly. He bit his lip. “I don’t tell my parents that much about my love life, though,” he added quietly, and Scorpius swallowed. Things were better, between Albus and his parents, but they were still a little strained, especially between Albus and his father. Albus still didn’t like admitting it, but he had taken their divorce the worst out of all three of the kids. He’d found it harder than the rest, going from such a close family to having to navigate their parents splitting, and it was taking a bit of time and effort for them to be back on safer ground, but they were getting there. It didn’t surprise Scorpius, then, that Albus maybe hadn’t told them much about the people he’d seen, or gone into specifics. Scorpius moved his hand, tentatively finding Albus’s own and playing with his fingers. 

“You would, though, yeah?” he asked quietly, and Albus blinked, then nodded vehemently. 

“About you, you mean?” At Scorpius’s nod, Albus continued. “Yeah, of course I would! I’ve only not told anyone before because, I guess, it hasn’t come up. I’ve never had a proper boyfriend to tell them about, you know? But they know I’m not straight, or whatever,” Albus shrugged. “I’d tell them if there was someone, if I had a boyfriend. Which I do, I think. I mean...do I?” 

Scorpius watched the flush creeping up Albus’s face, then slowly it dawned on him that that was a question he was meant to answer. “Oh!” he licked his lips, shuffling closer himself until their knees touched. “Ah, yes.” Scorpius cleared his throat, something wonderful fluttering in his stomach amongst the nerves at the idea of telling his family. “I’d say you do, yes.”

Scorpius watched the corners of Albus’s mouth turn down as he tried to contain his smile. Scorpius loved it, the way Albus’s face would contort as he tried not to show how excited he was about something. Having a very expressive face, Albus was usually pretty awful at containing his emotions, and there was something about making Albus look that way that made Scorpius’s stomach flip happily. 

“Awesome,” Albus muttered, sucking on his lower lip and grinning lopsidedly. “That means you're stuck with me too.”

Scorpius laughed, a surprised and nervous gust of sound. “That doesn’t sound so bad,” he mumbled, smiling broadly when Albus kissed him, lips catching against his own. It was soft, slow, and Scorpius would gladly have spent the rest of the morning doing that instead of talking, but Albus pulled away. 

“So, why are you worried about your dad?” he asked, not letting the subject drop. He rearranged the blankets slightly, and Scorpius sighed. He wasn’t sure how to put words to how he was feeling about that, but he did think it was worth giving it a try. He wasn’t so great at keeping things in; they tended to go sour inside him, and that always made him feel miserable. 

“I think...because my dad expects me to get married. To have a family, like him. My mum too, and my grandparents. They don’t talk about it all the time, but they definitely...expect me to bring a nice witch home, someday.” Scorpius tensed at the implication that his family might not be happy about Albus being who Scorpius brought home, but he relaxed again when Albus only twined their fingers together more tightly. He supposed it wasn’t exactly news to Albus, that Scorpius’s family might have a less than ecstatic reaction to Albus becoming an even more prominent part of Scorpius’s life, but that didn’t make him feel any less sad about that fact. Scorpius gripped Albus’s fingers back firmly. 

“I always really wanted that myself, actually,” he went on candidly. “To be married, and have a family. I liked the idea of that. I think I…” he paused, his chest feeling tight all of a sudden at the idea of that possibly no longer being a guaranteed part of his future. He knew there was no way he could marry a woman, after having finally figured out why his past dating adventures had been so unfulfilling, and the uncertainty of this future was now strangely unsettling. He didn’t continue, feeling oddly embarrassed and exposed, and Albus squeezed his fingers. 

“You can still have that.” He kissed Scorpius’s cheek, then his temple. “You can still have all of that,” he repeated as he pulled Scorpius against him tightly. “It’ll just be a little bit different to the idea you had in your head, maybe,” he continued in a low voice, without any judgement, “but you can definitely get married one day, and have kids with m ―” Albus swallowed, cutting himself off. He took a moment before continuing. “With whoever you want. And your family will either get on board with that, or...or, they’ll get on board with it really slowly. But they’ll get on board with it,” he finished, his voice soft and encouragingly certain, and Scorpius smiled, his eyes suddenly watery. He felt stupid, and overly honest, and overwhelming relieved that it was Albus he was talking about this with.

“Thank you,” he murmured, swallowing thickly, and Albus hummed. 

“You’re welcome. And you must be exhausted too, yeah?” Albus pulled the blanket over them, and Scorpius gratefully nuzzled against him. “We can sleep now,” he said tenderly, running his hand into Scorpius’s hair, “and then deal with all that other stuff whenever you feel up to it.” 

Scorpius sighed into the quiet of the room, then shut his eyes. “Yeah?” 

“Yeah. It’s just you and me in here. We can deal with the rest of the world later,” Albus mumbled and Scorpius smiled. 

“Yeah. Okay.”

-:-:-:-

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Comments] and [kudos] are love! Come say hi on [LJ ](http://shiftylinguini.livejournal.com/profile/)or [tumblr ](https://www.tumblr.com/dashboard)♥


	4. Booth Number Three at The Twirling Hippogriff

-:-:-:-

The bar was loud but not too crowded, the small swell of people buzzing around, as Scorpius sat in the corner booth and waited for his drink.

It had been three years since the first time they’d come here, which would have been ― Scorpius shut one eye as he thought ― the Sunday after they’d first slept together, he recalled with a blush, which was also the day he and Albus had officially become an item. They’d had dinner up the road, after sleeping most of the day away and finally dragging themselves out of bed, and then had come here to this bar afterwards. They always marked that day as the beginning of their relationship, and tended to come back to the same bar on their anniversary. It was soppy, Scorpius knew, and the bar wasn’t even very nice, but he liked having their own little traditions around anniversaries. He suspected he was, in fact, a very soppy person.

Albus plonked down into the booth next to him, balancing two drinks and two bags of crisps between his hands. He banged them unsteadily onto the table, spilling his beer and grinning. 

“Right, so the lager’s for me, and,” Albus pushed the second drink towards Scorpius, “we have a vodka tonic for the lady.”

Scorpius wrinkled his nose. “Why does it have a little umbrella in it? It’s not even a cocktail.”

“Because,” Albus loudly popped open a bag of crisps, “this is an awful bar.” He crunched a crisp loudly. “Which has smarmy bartenders who assume all drinks which aren’t beer are for women, and that means they need to add an umbrella and a straw.”

“That’s stupid. Oh, these are my favourite.” Scorpius stole another crisp, licking the salt off his fingers. 

“Yeah, I know.” Albus grinned, brushing the crisp crumbs off his fingers. “Happy anniversary,” he said happily, offering Scorpius the packet. Albus looked flushed, his cheeks pink from the outside cold and his hair curling against them. Scorpius blushed slightly, smiling back as he took the packet. 

“Yeah, happy anniversary, Albus,” he mumbled, feeling tongue tied and happy and like his face was definitely turning red right now. This bar was awful, and the drinks were silly, but he loved coming here every year, and he loved Albus, he thought happily. He settled back against Albus, the two of them sitting next to each other on the crimson leather of the old-fashioned booth, feeling the warmth of Albus’s shoulder and the pleasant buzz from his drink. 

“So, what’re we doing after this?” Scorpius asked, playing with the vibrant umbrella from his drink. He twirled it between his fingers, watching the colours blend together, and resisting the urge to stick it behind his ear. 

Next to him, Albus shrugged, his arm brushing against Scorpius’s. “No plans. Just see what happens.”

“Oh, cryptic.”

“Yeah,” Albus grinned again, his expression almost giddy and Scorpius couldn’t help but grin back when he looked at him. 

“You’re being weird, Al,” he said lightly, but Albus just laughed faintly. 

“Yeah. I’m just in a really good mood.” He shrugged. “Today is just a great day, isn’t it? Today is a really good day.”

“Is it?” Scorpius ate another crisp. “I mean it is, yes. But is something else happening today?”

Albus blinked, one hand in his pocket and the other drumming a sharp beat on the table top. “Maybe,” he said, smiling an almost private smile as he bit his lower lip. “Have to wait and see, I guess.”

Scorpius frowned. He crunched his crisp loudly, watching Albus out of the corner of his eye. His leg was jiggling, underneath the table, and Scorpius knew that as a nervous gesture. But looking at Albus’s face, he didn’t look nervous, but rather excited, and like he was anticipating something. He looked like he was up to something, Scorpius realised more accurately, which made his heart beat a little bit faster. Perhaps Albus had something planned for later, for both of them. Scorpius liked the sound of that. He looked back out at the bar, trying to steady his heartbeat and not to get his hopes up. It was also equally possible Albus was just in a great mood because he had beer and crisps and a boyfriend. Sometimes it didn’t take that much to make Albus happy. 

Scorpius took another sip of his drink, lips pursing slightly at the bitter taste of the tonic. He began gently squishing the lemon slice in it with his straw, then glanced over when he felt Albus take his hand under the table. Scorpius sucked on his lower lip, trying to keep his smile in. It still, after three years together, made him happy beyond words when Albus was affectionate with him in public. It was always subtle, little touches here and there, but they made Scorpius blush and forget what he was saying. He’d always loved showing affection to the people he cared about, but had been told from a young age that it wasn’t appropriate for boys to hug, or hold hands. He was glad beyond words that Albus had seemed to find that stupid from the first time they’d met, and once they’d become involved, well Scorpius found he liked that intimate level of contact even more.

Scorpius thought, really, that it had taken him a few months to work up the courage to tell his family that he was gay, and with Albus, for that very reason; because he was afraid they would find it inappropriate. They’d reacted better than he’d expected, but there were still a few barbed words from his grandfather. Worse than that, though, was Scorpius’s mother saying that she supported him in every decision he made ― as though Scorpius had woken up one day and had decided to be gay while eating his morning crumpets ― but that she was worried it was a stage he was going through, a phase. _’Don’t rush to label yourself, darling, before you’ve really had a girlfriend ― or a proper relationship’_ , she’d said while his father watched them, his face creased with a kind frown. Scorpius was unaccountably annoyed by that, even though he knew they hadn’t meant it to be hurtful. It wasn’t as if Scorpius was likely to announce something like this without being really sure about it. And why on earth didn't Albus qualify as the second half of a proper relationship? Scorpius didn't really think it was their place to question it. He was happy with Albus. Scorpius thought that by now, at least, his parents were aware that Albus, and their son’s lack of heterosexuality, were here to stay. 

Scorpius twirled his umbrella again, as he felt Albus running his own fingers gently along Scorpius’s middle finger, then over his index, and lastly to his ring finger. He held Scorpius’s hand loosely between both of his hands, slipping his fingers between Scorpius’s and spreading them slightly as if he was inspecting them. It was an unusual thing for Albus to be doing, rather than just holding his hand, but then again, it also wasn’t entirely out of the blue; Albus was very tactile, even more so than Scorpius. This was almost like a gentle hand massage, with Albus returning to Scorpius’s ring finger and lingering on it. 

Yeah, Scorpius thought happily. Albus is very much here to stay. 

He sighed, about to turn around and tell Albus something to that effect when he stopped. He frowned as he felt something cold and metallic slip onto his finger, the same one Albus had been just playing with. He blinked, trying to figure out what had just happened, as he pulled his hand out from under the table. Albus let him pull it away, his fingers falling away easily. Scorpius stared down at his finger, at the thin band of silver on it. He turned his hand slightly, noticing that the ring now looked gold in that light. He blinked at it, trying to figure out what was going on. This was a ring, which Albus had silently put on his finger, and Scorpius was very much aware of which finger this was ― but was Albus? Had he put it on that one on purpose? Surely not, because that would make it a... 

Surely this wasn’t what it bloody looked like. Was it?

Scorpius licked his lips, feeling almost dizzy.

“Oh, you got me a...present?” he asked stupidly, the thundering beat of his heart in his ears telling him that this was definitely a present, of sorts, but somehow his brain was being incredibly slow to make sense of exactly what kind. Looking up to meet Albus’s eyes, and the expression on his face ― slightly anxious, apprehensively hopeful, his lips bitten and his eyes bright ― all but confirmed it. 

_Holy fucking Merlin’s tits, this is an engagement ring_. 

“Um, no, well yes. It’s a, well, do you, um ―” Albus started, but stopped when Scorpius squeaked. He swallowed, the stupidity of the sound rivalled only by the dull thud in his head. _Ring. Dear Merlin, this is a ring_. 

“Are you okay?” Albus leaned forward, looking concerned, and somewhat embarrassed. 

“Mmf,” Scorpius managed. He looked down at his hand again, hovering awkwardly between them, He was having trouble getting his mouth to work properly, at getting words past the amazing, astounding, lump of happiness lodged in his throat; he’d never felt so tongue tied in his life. 

“You look a bit shocked,” Albus said, his eyes wide and his hands back in his lap. “Sorry, maybe I should have done this differently. You can...you can wait a bit and think about it and. And it’s okay if, if you think you might prefer not to…” Albus trailed off, “You don’t have to say yes,” he mumbled. 

Scorpius looked up from the band on his finger with a start, a horrible feeling landing in his stomach. He watched Albus take a large sip of his beer, followed by another large gulp. He placed his glass back on the table, and nervously tucked his hair behind his ears, then did it again. There were splotches of colour on his face, those patches of red that appeared when he was upset or embarrassed. His shoulders were slightly hunched, that busy energy he’d had before still there as he bit at one of his nails. 

Scorpius realised with a jolt that Albus thought he might not want this. 

He stood up suddenly, jostling the table and almost knocking their half-empty glasses over. Albus looked up at him with confusion, but Scorpius grabbed Albus’s hand and dragged him through the crowd and towards the bathroom. 

“Where are we ― ”

“Loo.”

“But I don’t need the ―”

Scorpius gripped Albus’s hand tighter, pulling Albus along behind him. He felt the tug of the ring as he clenched his fingers, pushing open the heavy wooden door to the restroom. He didn’t stop until they were inside, pulling Albus into the nearest empty stall and clicking the latch shut

“Woah, Scorp, what’re you ― mmf”

Albus stopped as Scorpius kissed him, hard and desperate. The toilet stall was off white, and cramped, but he crowded Albus up against the side of it, his hands in Albus’s shirt front and his lips insistent against Albus’s. He kissed up to Albus’s cheek, over the ridge of his cheek bone and then to his ear. He ran his hands up into Albus’s hair, tangling them there slightly. 

“Yes,” he whispered into Albus’s ear. He shut his eyes, smiling idiotically at the rush saying it brought him. “Yes,” he said again, resting his cheek against Albus’s own. 

Albus was quiet, except for the sound of his slightly too-loud breathing. “Really?” he asked faintly, his voice so soft and quiet Scorpius might not have heard it ― had he not been pressed against Albus from almost tip to toe, that is. He moved a little bit closer anyway. 

Scorpius nodded, kissing Albus’s cheek fiercely. “Yes.” Another kiss lower down Albus’s jaw. “Yes,” he murmured again as Albus got the message and placed his hands on Scorpius’s hips. He pulled Scorpius against him, kissing him fiercely, his breath coming in little puffs of happy laughter. 

Scorpius pulled away, breathless. He looked at Albus. “You were asking me to marry you, right?” he asked, proud of the way his voice only quavered slightly on the _m_ of marry. Marry ― _marry_! That was a big word. That was a basilisk of a word. He wanted to be sure he had this right, he had this properly right, before he made any more of a tit of himself by biting the word _yes_ into every inch of Albus’s skin. Because that was definitely what he wanted to do, and would as soon as they left. 

Albus smiled, nodding enthusiastically, and Scorpius kissed him harder than he’d intended, teeth clacking as Albus continued to grin from ear to ear. 

“Yes, then.”

“Yes, you will marry me?” Albus asked quietly, seemingly needing to confirm what Scorpius had just said. 

Scorpius laughed giddily, kissing Albus again and again, the sound of the pub filtering faintly through the shut door and the lamps dimly illuminating Albus’s beaming face. 

“Yes,” Scorpius murmured against Albus’s lips. “Definitely yes.”

-:-:-:-

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Comments] and [kudos] are love! Come say hi on [LJ ](http://shiftylinguini.livejournal.com/profile/)or [tumblr ](https://www.tumblr.com/dashboard)♥


	5. Youth, Tradition and Other Nonsense

-:-:-:-

“You're what?”

Scorpius carefully placed his silver fork onto his dessert plate, trying to make as little noise as he could. The tiny clatter still sounded deafening in the sudden quiet of the dining room at the Manor. 

“Engaged. I am engaged,” he repeated.

“To _Albus_?” 

_No, to a goldfish_. Scorpius bit his lip, so as not to say that out loud. His mother looked beyond surprised, and Scorpius supposed that she could be forgiven her reaction. 

“Darling,” his mother gripped his hand. “That’s wonderful,” she started, but her face showed there was more to come. “But aren’t you worried this is a bit sudden? You don’t want to rush into anything with him, not when you’re still so young, and you’ve never been with anyone else. This could be something you grow out of.”

Scorpius’s heart sank. He continued to stare at the tablecloth, trying to figure out if he was angry and upset with what his mother had just said. He realised, with something of a sad jolt, that he was neither; he felt resigned. He’d been expecting them to react like this, and in some ways that was the saddest part of all. 

“It’s not a phase, Mum,” he said quietly, and his hurt must have shown as she gripped his hand a little tighter. 

“Of course not, my love,” she said. “I’m only concerned that ―”

“That you’re about to do something you will regret.” 

Scorpius looked at his grandfather, sitting stiffly at the head of the table. He didn’t know what to say to that. From his mother’s stony expression she wasn’t pleased at being interrupted. She blinked, turning her attention back to Scorpius.

“You’re just very young, both of you ―”

“Too young, one might even say,” Narcissa added, and Scorpius sighed. Here we go, he thought, glancing over at his father. The other occupants of the table followed his gaze. 

“Draco, would you talk some sense into your son?” Lucius said sternly. “A marriage is a significant commitment and not something to be entered into lightly, on a whim, without careful consideration of one’s partner.”

Scorpius internally made faces at him, annoyed by the implication he wasn’t mature enough to decide to get bloody married. He stopped when he realised that mentally sticking his tongue out at the dinner table wasn’t exactly a great demonstration of his maturity. It was just so bloody hypocritical though; he was twenty two, which made him four years older than his grandmother when she married his grandfather, and the same age as his parents when they were wed. He suspected, more than anything, that their reticence had more to do with the gender and the last name of his proposed future spouse. If he was announcing he was engaged to a nice, pureblood girl they probably wouldn't have half so much to say on the matter. 

Scorpius’s father, having been silent throughout this entire interaction, raised his coffee cup to his lips. He took a slow, careful sip, then dabbed at his upper lip with his pale blue napkin. He slowly met Scorpius’s eyes. 

“Congratulations, son,” he said quietly, and Scorpius smiled, internally bracing himself for what was about to come. He knew his father well enough to know there would have to be some kind of rebuke against Albus’s family coming. “An excellent match, between two grand families.” Draco raised his glass of dessert wine, and Scorpius watched as his mother and grandparents followed suit. Scorpius raised his too, but he was fighting the urge to roll his eyes at his father’s attempt at being nice about the Potters; he knew there had to be a catch to this. “And I assume we will be paying for this wedding, of course?” Draco added after a moment, and Scorpius stared at him incredulously. 

_Ahh, there we go_ , he thought, fighting the urge to laugh. _Had to get that in there, didn’t you, Dad?_ Scorpius folded his arms, and then one leg over the other. 

“Yes, you will be footing the bill for everything,” he said lightly. “Especially the six hippogriffs I’ll be riding down the aisle on, the golden slippers both Albus and I will be wearing, and of course we will be hiring the entire Goblin Ballet to do a theatrical rendition of how Albus and I first met,” he finished, refusing to break eye contact with his father. “And I also want them to do Pirates of Penzance. On stilts.”

Scorpius heard his grandmother sigh dramatically, presumably seeing this as proof he wasn’t mature enough to handle a wedding, but Scorpius was having doubts about _their_ collective maturity himself, so sod it all. He swallowed, noticing with some satisfaction that his father looked somewhat chastised, and also like he was trying not to laugh. Scorpius was glad; he wanted his father as his ally on this, and it made him angrier than he could explain that his dad’s first thought would be _“well, can the Potters afford to marry **my** son?”_ Scorpius’s father knew bloody well that they could, he was just being childish. Scorpius also knew his father liked to put on a show, act like he was as stern as Scorpius’s grandfather, but Scorpius knew him better than that; he’d seen his father dressed up as all manner of creatures as he acted out Scorpius’s favourite parts of his books when he was a child. 

“Scorpius, it is exactly that kind of attitude that makes me think this is all a bit too sudden ―”

Scorpius pursed his lips at his mother, ignoring his grandfather’s _‘here, here’_ of agreement. Honestly, that man would agree to anything that was against the Potters and Weasleys. 

“Not to mention,” Narcissa added, flicking a glance at her husband then back at Astoria, “a wedding must be done properly. In the _correct_ way.”

Scorpius almost failed to contain his groan; he knew that ‘correct’ here meant ‘pureblood’. “I’m sure that won’t be a problem ―” he started.

“I’m sure it will, considering that family and their views,” Lucius interrupted, his tone dry. The word ‘views’ had never sounded more loaded, and Scorpius noted with some happiness that his mother was looking more and more like she didn’t want to be on that side of the argument anymore. She very rarely agreed with Lucius on anything, and realising she had inadvertently ended up on his side of the discussion was evidently making her have second thoughts on it all. 

“Lucius, I don’t think we need to worry too much about that,” Astoria stated diplomatically. “They will of course want what is best to make their son, and ours, happy,” she said pointedly, touching Scorpius’s hand in what was clearly a belated peace-offering. Scorpius smiled, happy to take it. He was also itching for a reason to leave, and for this whole conversation to end. The sooner they wrapped this up, the better. 

“Grandad, I’m sure it’ll ―” Scorpius tried, but his grandfather talked over him. He looked like he was getting ready for a rant, puffing up with his own perceived importance. Scorpius was starting to get a headache. He liked his grandfather, well enough, and Scorpius knew that his grandfather cared about him, but a lot of his opinions and views seemed to be from not only another time, but an entirely different dimension, to the world Scorpius had grown up in ― and more importantly, to the world he wanted to live in. 

“No Malfoy has been wed in anything less than full pureblood tradition, and accompanying ceremony and regalia, for as far back as our lineage has been traced,” Lucius said archly, “and I will be damned if I will see a grandchild of mine lowering his standards to ―”

“Lucius!”

“Father, that is entirely out of order ―” 

“Draco, if you won’t keep your child in line, then I ―”

“Lucius, that’s enough!”

“And look at this Albus boy’s parents, their own marriage hardly lasted very ―” 

“Well, that was delicious!” Scorpius said loudly over his grandfather. “I am just so full now.” 

Scorpius stood up, his chair squeaking on the floor. He cleared his throat, placing his napkin on the table next to his untouched fondant pudding as he forced a bright smile onto his face. “I could not eat another bite,” he said to his family’s somewhat surprised faces. It was rude, what he was doing, and he’d been taught better, but he was done with this conversation and the argument he could see brewing. “So, thank you for dinner, that was really excellent, and thank you for…” he scrunched his face up. How could he finish that sentence. _For being neither better nor worse than I anticipated you would be over this_. No, he couldn't say that, not to his family. “For, err, your honesty about my announcement,” he managed, weakly. Well, that would do. 

“Scorpius, darling, you don’t need to leave ―” his mother started, her face somewhat apologetic, but Scorpius shook his head. Across the table, Scorpius’s grandfather looked aloof, his grandmother unreadable as always. Scorpius noted his father was looking contrite as he ran his fingers over the embroidery on his napkin. 

“No, no, I really must be off now, Mum. I’ll see you all next Sunday,” he added brightly, relief running through him as he kissed them all lightly on the cheek and made for the hallway and towards the large door. He was nearly there when he heard footsteps following him. 

“Scorpius, wait.”

Scorpius turned to face his father, with a small groan. “Oh, come on Dad, it’s not that big a deal,” he said plaintively, his escape almost thwarted. “It’s not like I just met Albus or something, I’ve known him forever, and he asked me to marry him, and I just...” he took a deep breath as he wrested his arms into his evening cloak, surprised by how badly he wanted his dad to get this. “It just made me really happy,” he said quietly, avoiding his father’s eyes and trying not to go red. He wasn’t good at hiding when he was upset. “And I know there’s history and the families don’t get along, but would it kill you to be happy for me, too?” He dropped his hands to his sides. He felt tired, and deflated. He wanted to go home and find out how Albus’s evening had gone with telling his family, and compare their horror stories. 

“Scorpius.” His father stepped up to him, he placed his hands on each of Scorpius’s shoulders. “I am happy for you,” he said quietly. He kissed Scorpius on the forehead. “Your grandparents, and your mother,” Draco smiled self deprecatingly, “and I, as well, may not always understand the things you do, or say the right things. We can be...set, in our ways, I fear. But don't ever let us stop you from doing what you want,” Draco said quietly, his eyes warm. Scorpius blinked back at him, his chest feeling tight. He nodded, and his father smiled again. “If you want to get married to Albus, then we will happily welcome him into our family.”

Scorpius looked into his father’s eyes, trying to see if there was any deception or lie, but he looked open, sincere. 

“What about Grandad?” he mumbled, and Draco sighed. He was quiet for a moment. 

“Bugger Grandad,” he answered after a moment, and Scorpius looked up at him in shock. “I love my father, don’t misunderstand me there,” Draco continued, “but there is something to be said for taking some of his opinions with not a pinch but rather an entire bucket of salt.” Draco squeezed his shoulder. “Besides, it’s not his wedding. It’s yours.”

Scorpius swallowed, feeling somewhat overwhelmed by his father’s words and implicit support of whatever Scorpius’s, and by proxy Albus’s, their engagement. He swallowed, folding his arms. 

“Thanks, Dad,” he croaked, blinking away the moisture in his eyes. 

His father pulled him into a hug, tight and warm, and Scorpius felt about ten years old again. He leant into it, gladder to have his father’s approval than he would like to admit. 

“You’re welcome, son,” Draco said as he pulled back. “I’m glad he makes you happy.” He smoothed Scorpius’s hair back into place, then straightened his collar. “Although, I do hope your heart wasn’t set on the Goblins,” he added lightly. “I don’t know if we can really make that happen.”

Scorpius snorted a surprised laugh, wiping at his face and his father’s eyes crinkled as he grinned back. Scorpius felt the weight in his chest feeling somewhat lessened by his father’s words. 

“I’ll see you next Sunday, then,” Draco patted him on the shoulder, before turning to leave. “Oh, and please do give my regards to your fiancé,” he called over his shoulder, his shoes clicking as he walked away, and Scorpius smiled at his back, before turning to leave himself.

-:-:-:-

Scorpius let himself into the house, his stomach full and his heart heavy with what felt like relief at having told his family, but could also be sadness at their reaction ― and at the prospect of having to deal with his grandparents’ outdated ideas about weddings. He hoped that Albus had had a better night telling his family. More than that, Scorpius hoped that Albus was home already; he could dearly do with the company after the slight emotional battering he felt he’d just endured.

He dropped his keys into the jar by the door, then immediately turned around and picked them up again and put them in his cloak pocket. He’d left the house without them three times this week, and he wasn’t risking it again. 

Entering the living room, he noted with delight that Albus was not only home, but sprawled across the entire expanse of the sofa. He looked up happily when Scorpius walked in. 

“He returns!” Albus said, with a small smile. Scorpius returned it tenfold. “So, how was it?” Albus asked, hugging a cushion to his chest. 

Scorpius sighed as he looked down at Albus, prone on the sofa as he was. Albus looked tired, too, his feet just perched on the edge of the armrest. He was wearing another appalling ensemble of clothes, which could not have clashed more viciously if Albus had planned it. Scorpius had never been happier to see him in his life. He had the urge to run up and hug him, but he contented himself with just staring happily as he removed his cloak and shoes. 

“You want the long version, or the short?”

“Hmm.” Albus rubbed one eye. “Short?”

“Well, Grandad was rude and kind of awful, Mum was well meaning but also bloody patronising, so those two things kind of cancelled each other out, Grandma was…,” Scorpius shook his head, “concerned with appearances and making sure we get married properly involving all the traditional, I dunno, frills and trimmings, because apparently she thinks left to ourselves we’re going to get married in an alley next to a bin,” Albus laughed, and Scorpius smiled at him toothily before saying, “and Dad was narky, as always, and then he got over himself and was…” Scorpius smiled. “Kind of great, actually. Also he says hi.”

Albus smiled. “He said hi?”

“Well, it was ‘regards’ actually. But yes, he sent them with me, from him to you.” Scorpius stepped closer, sitting down on the sofa when Albus lifted his legs to allow Scorpius some room. He dropped them back over his lap, and Scorpius resisted the urge to hug his knees. 

“So, it was basically exactly as you predicted, then?” Albus said, shifting slightly so that his knees rested against Scorpius’s chest. 

“Yep.” Scorpius gave in to his urge, and wrapped his arms around Albus’s legs. As long as he didn’t start kissing Albus’s knees or anything, this was probably not too sappy. “They’ll be offering me the new Divination post at Hogwarts any day now.”

“You’d look wonderful in Trelawny’s robes.”

“It’s always been my dream.” Scorpius rested his chin on Albus’s knee. “So, how was yours then?”

Albus’s smile melted away from his face as he exhaled slowly and heavily. “Not exactly as expected.”

“No?” Scorpius asked, concerned. He was surprised by this, having anticipated Albus’s family would be at the very least be more inclined to celebrate than reprimand, as Scorpius’s were. 

Albus sighed again. “Well, they were happy. They congratulated me, and us. I think they were kind of shocked, really, but Mum gave me a really big hug and James was over the moon, and Ted and Lils were joking about which of the two of them would be the flower girl, then James said he wanted to be the Matron of Honour. Mum said the three of them would actually be in charge of cleaning up after the wedding, and Dad laughed.” Albus smiled. “That bit was nice. Mum and Dad get on really well these days, considering. It was nice they were both there at the same time.” He waved a hand at the kitchen. “There is also enough leftovers to keep us fed for the next three years, courtesy of Nan.”

“Delicious,” Scorpius said, and he meant it. He liked Albus’s Nan, a lot, and he liked her cooking even more. He licked his lips. “So, what wasn’t...as expected?” Scorpius asked tentatively.

Albus played with a fraying corner of the pillow. “Well, Dad was happy too. Really happy. He loves you, you know,” Albus said, smiling at Scorpius, and Scorpius preened internally. “He’s really happy we’re together,” Albus said, and it didn’t sound like a lie. Scorpius prodded his leg gently. 

“But? Is there a but?”

Albus sighed. “ _But_ ,” he agreed, his expression wry. “He thinks we’re too young. He took me aside and said a few things about how, I dunno, not to rush into anything or to feel like we have to get married.” Scorpius smiled ruefully, reminded of his mother’s reaction, as Albus continued. “I think he might have felt like he was pressured into it himself, and he doesn’t want me to feel the same.” Albus sighed heavily. “Which kind of pissed me off. I mean, I know he might regret marrying Mum when he was young, but I’m not him,” Albus grumbled, throwing his cushion across the room. He folded his arms across his chest. Scorpius hugged his legs tighter, worry etched across his face at Albus’s change in tone; it had been a long time since he’d seen Albus annoyed with his father.

“I’m sure he doesn’t mean it like that,” Scorpius said, in what he hoped was a comforting way, and wasn’t making light of the situation. He wasn’t sure if it was his place to say this, but he knew that Albus’s father loved his kids, of that he was certain. He didn’t really think that it was right to think Harry regretted marrying Albus’s mother, or vice versa. He thought, more than anything, that Albus and his dad were sometimes so similar that it was impossible for them to hear each other properly, and other times they understood each other perfectly. “He loves you,” Scorpius added quietly. 

Albus sighed, rubbing his eyes. “Yeah, I know. Sorry, I’m just...it was an exhausting kind of night,” he admitted. “Dad loves you, and he kind of…” Albus made a face. “Well, I think tolerate is the word. He can _tolerate_ your parents, but there’s a tonne of bad history there, and I don’t think he likes the idea of me being around your grandparents. Mum either, to be honest, after all the...after everything,” Albus finished quietly, looking apologetically at Scorpius. 

Scorpius felt his stomach drop a little further, as he stared at the pillow behind Albus’s head. He knew Albus’s parents had every right to feel funny about his parents, about his grandparents, and the role his family had played in so much of their shared history. He didn’t like hearing about it though, an oddly guilty feeling curdling in his belly, as well as discomfort at someone not liking his family. For all their flaws ― and Scorpius knew they were many ― Scorpius loved them, even his crotchety old grandfather, and he knew they loved him too. Above all, he hated the idea of his family’s past being an issue for Albus, but he thought he knew him well enough to know that it wasn’t. He looked up when Albus jostled his knee to get his attention, the expression on his face confirming for Scorpius that Albus didn’t have any reservations about Scorpius or his family. 

“Want to not talk about that?” he offered gently, and Scorpius swallowed, feeling partly silly for evidently letting his emotions show so clearly on his face, but also deeply grateful that Albus had picked up on it. He nodded, resting his head back against the sofa, his mind spinning at the prospect of putting his entire extended family into the same room as Albus’s relatives. Somehow, it had never occurred to him that a wedding might involve _that_. 

It looked as though it was just starting to occur to Albus, too. 

“It'll be fine, though, won’t it?” he asked, as Scorpius took his hand. “We’ll just get through organising it, and then on the day itself, it’ll be...fine, right?” Albus said, his voice somewhat uncertain. Scorpius tightened his fingers around Albus’s hand, before lifting them up to his mouth. He kissed Albus’s knuckles gently. 

“Yeah,” he said, even though right now he didn’t quite believe it. He was certain their families would be able to get along, for them, or at the very least for appearance's sake. And more than that, whatever Albus wanted, Scorpius was willing to go along with. Scorpius would just try and keep his family in line; there was no way he would let them ruin this for Albus. 

“It’ll be fun,” he repeated, lips against Albus’s fingers. “Do you….want to come to bed with me?” he asked shyly. Albus looked at him evenly, then tilted his head to the side, something mischievous in his eyes. 

“Are you tired?” he asked knowingly, grinning outright when Scorpius shook his head, kissing Albus’s hand again. He could feel the flutter of warmth in his belly as Albus stood up, pulling him towards the bedroom by their joined hands. 

“In that case, yes. We should definitely go to bed.”

-:-:-:-

**Notes for the Chapter:**

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	6. Dandelions

-:-:-:-

“I hate this.”

Albus dropped his mug into the sink, the sound loud while his voice had been quiet. Scorpius set his wand down onto the living room table before walking gingerly into the kitchen. 

He had a sinking feeling he knew exactly what Albus was referring to. 

“It didn’t go well on your end then?” he asked softly. 

Albus laughed dryly. “No. That is an understatement.” He looked up at Scorpius, his expression a cross between sad, frustrated, and absolutely knackered. “I take it you haven’t heard from your grandmother yet?” he said flatly. 

Scorpius's heart sank further. “No. I was a bit tied up, um, with your dad, and Molly,” he said, apologetic even though he wasn’t sure why. 

He’d had something of a bleak afternoon, which had ended on a rather high note, and he felt guilty that Albus had apparently had the opposite kind of day. They’d both been out with their relatives ― Albus out with Ginny, Narcissa and Draco, and Scorpius spending the afternoon with Molly, Astoria and Harry ― as they tried to finalise a few key points for the wedding. Well, finalise was far too generous a word; really, what they were doing was trying to make a decision about the wedding, regarding anything, which was so far something both families were completely unable to do. 

From the ceremony to the appropriate robes for the boys to wear, from the selection of bridesmaids and grooms to invasive questions about ‘purity’ and virginity ― which Albus and Scorpius were still feeling mortified about ― to location, catering, and what shade of tablecloth they should use, it was becoming very, very clear that the Malfoys and Potters were going to disagree on every little thing they could possibly find to disagree on. Scorpius was feeling more than over it, this wedding turning into something he was ashamed to admit he somewhat dreaded ― if they couldn't get their parents into the same room together without a fight erupting over silverware, or what to serve for dessert, then what hope was there that the day itself would run smoothly?

Scorpius suspected that some of this had reflected on his face as he meet with Albus’s grandmother, father, and his own mother, at Benetton's Patisserie that morning. He hadn't been able to muster enough energy to be excited about any of the wedding cake samples he’d been offered, not the vanilla creme torte with raspberry mouse, or the chocolate gateau they’d brought out in the shape of a love heart and with delicate meringue swans on top. Scorpius’s mother looked unimpressed, declaring it wasn’t grand enough for the event they had in mind. Conversely, Albus’s grandmother was delighted, although she pointed out it would be difficult to accommodate the traditional cake cutting ceremony, using a sickle carved from quartz, considering it was all covered with swans. Astoria, however, was of the mind that that would not be an issue as they would be using the _Druidic_ tradition, and therefore cutting the cake with an ivory scythe. Harry had asked why they couldn't just use a knife, and both women had stopped their bickering to glare at him. 

Scorpius thought it all looked and sounded a bit ridiculous and over the top, which is also what he thought of there being a cutting ceremony at all. He was too polite to say any of this, but he wasn’t great at hiding it, either. He and Albus had wanted to have a three-tiered ice cream cake, which Albus’s boss had happily agreed to make and supply, and to Charm it not to melt, but Scorpius’s grandparents had shot that down before Albus had even been able to properly pitch it. Scorpius was still reeling from that unpleasant evening, and from his grandfather’s obtuse insistence that Albus needed to cut his hair before the wedding. It seemed more than rich coming from a man whose own hair was almost long enough to wrap around his elbows, and Albus’s father had said as much, to Scorpius’s secret delight. To his secret _not_ delight, though, Draco had then arched up in defense of his own father, and then they were off again, arguing into the night as Albus and Scorpius sat glumly on the divan. 

He didn’t realize how strongly his heart had been set on the ice cream cake from Fortescue’s, but as he tried to smile and make happy noises over his third plate of outrageous cake, he thought that perhaps it was the idea of it more than anything which he liked. He wanted this wedding to be about Albus, and himself, more than he’d expected. He didn’t like that other people were able to choose what kind of cake he was allowed to have, or to tell Albus he had to cut his hair off or _‘get a respectable job, boy, and no more of this Fortescue’s nonsense’_. 

He didn’t like all the bloody arguing. 

It must have showed on his face, how little he was enjoying their afternoon and how badly he’d rather stick his head in the mousse cake than listen to any more of this, as his mother and Harry had exchanged a few meaningful glances over his head. Scorpius had been bracing for some kind of snide remark from one of them, but instead Harry had suggested loudly and pointedly that perhaps they could leave the samples for now, and head back to the Burrow for some tea instead. Molly had been more than accommodating, announcing she had biscuits there as well, and Scorpius’s shoulders had sagged in relief as he heard his mother readily agree. Scorpius was all too ready to see the back of the overpriced patisserie. He hoped he never had to eat another meringue swan in his life. 

The afternoon had picked up exponentially from there, as without the pressure of wedding decisions around them it seemed Harry, Astoria and Molly actually got on rather well. Molly had practically shone with pride when Astoria has asked for the recipe for her tea biscuits. It was the first time Scorpius had ever seen two members of the opposing family get on so well since the wedding had been announced, and he could have almost cried with relief at the sight of it. It had been a very welcome reprieve in almost two months of bickering, stress, and nightmares about his grandfather chasing him in the garden, on the back of a giant swan, as Harry and Draco had a duel over the correct way to fold napkins. 

Looking at Albus’s miserable face now, as he stood in the kitchen after his day at the florist's, it seemed Albus’s afternoon hadn’t ended on such a nice note. 

“Was it…” Scorpius licked his lips, then tried again. “What would my grandmother be calling me about?” he asked tentatively. Albus’s shoulders dropped a little further.

“Me,” he suggested wearily. “My mum. Everything either of us suggests for this wedding. The state of florists in England these days.” Albus tried to smile, but it didn’t remotely stick to his face. “Name it, and she’s unhappy about it.”

Scorpius stepped a little further into the kitchen, his boots clicking lightly on the tiles. “She can be quite a...forceful woman,” he said diplomatically and it was a testament to how exhausted Albus was that he didn’t even roll his eyes. Scorpius was beginning to feel worried. 

“I just never realised this would be such a…” Albus trailed off, leaning against the kitchen sink. The water on the line of the basin left a damp line on the material of his t-shirt, and Albus sighed, heavily. He didn't finish his thought, but Scorpius thought he didn't have to. _I never realised this would be so much work. That our families would fight this much. That there was so much planning involved, and that traditions no one has ever mentioned before would suddenly be so important to everyone._

Scorpius thought all of them seemed fitting; he was feeling that himself. 

“I mean,” Albus took a deep breath, “does it matter what we wear, or what the flowers signify? Your grandma was talking about it like it was life or death, but they're just flowers! Why don’t we just pick colours we like. I’d be happy with a bouquet of dandelions. And who cares if I work at Fortescue's? I like it there,” he said defensively, glowering at the toaster. “And the guest list, the guest list is getting ridiculous! There are people on there that I don’t even think either of my parents know, but they’re insisting we have as many guests as your side, and it’s just getting stupid!” Albus ran his fingers through his hair, his voice getting louder and louder. “Your family is insisting they pay for everything, but then also complaining at every turn about how much it costs, and that’s just making my mum and dad as hot tempered as ever. We’re never going to make a decision about anything!” Albus snorted derisively. “Well, I say _we_ , but it’s not like it really matters what you and I think.” Albus breathed out again, folding his arms across his chest. Scorpius nodded ruefully, his own mood plummeting down to meet Albus’s. 

“I don’t think I want this wedding,” Albus said to his toes. “Not like this. I just want you.”

Scorpius watched Albus, trying to think of something to say, but nothing was coming, except a heavy sinking feeling in his gut. He was still trying to think of the right words, when Albus’s phone buzzed on the kitchen table. 

“ _Benjamin, outside the shop. Anxious about having locked himself outside for the third time this fortnight. Slightly hungry and cold,_ ” it trilled, the charm Teddy had placed on it allowing it to announce the location, name and mood of the caller. Scorpius winced on Benjamin’s behalf ― he did lock himself out a lot, and was getting a reputation for being useless ― as Albus groaned. 

“Oh, bloody hell,” he swore at the phone on the table as he let it ring out. “That means I have to go in.” Albus grabbed his coat, stomping his feet into his shoes as he slipped the phone into his pocket. “I bet he’s forgotten the mixing spells too. He _always_ forgets them.” Albus looked up through his messy fringe, his hair sticking up awkwardly over his collar. “I’ll see you later,” he mumbled morosely at Scorpius, heading towards the door. 

“I love ― ” Scorpius started to mumble back, interrupted by the loud slam of the door, “you,” he finished quietly to the empty room, then sighed. He shut his eyes, massaging the bridge of his nose, then opened them again with a start as he heard the door swing open again. 

“I love you, too!” Albus yelled into the room, before shutting the door much more gently. 

Scorpius sighed, then smiled faintly. He chewed on his lip, staring pensively at the half finished dishes Albus had abandoned. With a flick of his wand, he set them back to work, getting down a tin of baked beans from the cupboard. He plucked a fork from a drawer, staring down at the sad tin of beans before deciding that he was also sad enough to eat them cold. 

What a mess, he thought, feeling his stomach swoop. Worst of all, he knew Albus was right, in every way; their parents were taking hold of this with both hands, and appeared hellbent on steering their wedding right off a cliff. Between Scorpius’s grandfather’s not-even thinly veiled homophobic remarks, his grandmother's constant sighs over _“the loss of grandchildren, the loss of the Malfoy lineage_ ”, and Albus’s parents’ sudden desire to _‘do the wedding right’_...well, Scorpius was starting to dread it. All of it. He realised with a sad thump in his gut something he hadn’t let himself think since this had begun; he didn’t want this wedding, either. 

Which meant neither of them did. 

He dropped his fork onto the bench, the enormity of that thought crashing over him. He didn’t want a big white wedding, or a pureblood traditional ceremony. He didn’t want a guest list as long as the Thames with relatives and business partners of their families on it, people he’d never heard of in his entire life suddenly privy to what should be the most romantic and important moment in his and Albus’s anticipated long, happy and messy shared life together. 

He thought back on that night in the pub, Albus’s fingers running lightly over his and slipping the ring onto them. He thought of that elated, glorious feeling in his chest as he’d kissed him afterwards, dragged him away from the crowd of the room and somewhere they could be alone and Scorpius could tell him that of course the answer was yes. He hadn’t really thought about the wedding itself; that had been an almost abstract concept, one that barely even registered amongst his happiness at the idea of being married to Albus, at having that smooth weight on his finger ― on wanting to put one on Albus’s finger in return. 

He looked down at his finger, at the thin silver band around it. Why hadn't he done that? He should have gotten Albus a ring. He’d wanted to, but he’d been so swept up in organising this pig’s dinner of a wedding that he hadn’t actually done it. His grandfather had told him it would be a stupid gesture ― “ _a wizard does not wear an engagement ring, child,_ ” he’d sneered, glancing pointedly at Scorpius’s own ring, as if it was some kind of physical emblem of Scorpius’s pending, permanent emasculation by marrying a man. Knowing his grandfather, he probably thought it was. It had just made Scorpius want to buy Albus a ring even more, but Albus had laughed it off, saying he didn’t need one. Scorpius had still wanted to do it, though. And now...Well, maybe it was too late, he thought miserably. Was the wedding even going to happen, now? Albus sounded like he was more than over it. 

Scorpius picked his fork up, disconsolately stirring the open tin of beans. If only they could just give them all the slip, cancel the whole thing and just go back to it being about them and not being some kind of ridiculous Potter-Weasley-Malfoy pissing contest. Albus would probably like that, Scorpius thought, smiling at his cold beans and taking a mouthful. What was it he had said once, all those years ago? _’Eloping is way more romantic than a wedding. Wedding’s are for the relatives; eloping is just for the couple, you know?’_

They’d been watching a film, some Muggle comedy, in which a couple in their fifties defied their children and ran away to the Bahamas to get married on the beach in the company of some swimming pigs and a man they’d met at the airport. Albus had loved it, popcorn balanced on his stomach as he lay on his back and grinned at the screen. Scorpius hadn't understood it then, but he got it now. Merlin, he would love to just up and run away from this fiasco, to take Albus somewhere nice and secluded and then send their parents a postcard or something. Nothing cruel, Scorpius didn’t want that. But he wanted it to just be about _them_ again. He wanted….

 _I don’t want this wedding. I just want you._

Scorpius twirled the ring on his finger with his thumb, fork dangling out of his mouth as an idea occurred to him. Scorpius wasn’t an impulsive person, not really, but he had his moments. He felt his heartbeat speeding up as he let the idea form in his head. He could probably pull this off. It would _probably_ work. 

He frowned at his finger, then looked at the time. It was half seven. If he left now, he could do this before Albus got back. He knew just the place, and the witch who ran it did owe him a favour after he’d treated her poorly owl out of hours without any extra cost. She’d been beyond grateful, and told him if he ever wanted something custom made to call on her. He didn't think she meant in the middle of the evening, but then again her shop had been open in the evening when he’d visited her sick bird. 

Scorpius watched the clock tick for one more full minute, the hands moving slowly along, before he bounced off the counter and onto his feet. He remembered at the last minute to grab his keys before he raced out the door.

-:-:-:-

It was late, when Scorpius returned.

He slipped inside their shared bedroom, the dim Lumos of his wand illuminating Albus’s sleeping shape in their bed. It had taken Giselda longer than Scorpius had thought to complete the favour he’d asked her, but she had been more than happy to do it. Now, mission accomplished, Scorpius felt keyed up and nervous, but he knew he had to wait until morning to tell Albus about his idea. He thumbed the little box in his pocket, then slipped it into his bedside drawer, between his favourite pair of socks, and his, well, second favourite pair of socks. 

Scorpius undressed quickly, his wand held in his teeth so he could see what he was doing. He watched Albus out of the corner of his eyes. He looked warm, and fast asleep, curled around his pillow and breathing evenly, and Scorpius let out a small sigh of relief at not having woken him ― and then swore as he turned and stubbed his toe, hard, on the leg of the bed. 

“Ow, _shissss_ ,” he hissed incoherently, hopping on one foot, then stilling as he heard the rustle of sheets and a bleary voice. 

“Sc’rp’us?”

“Yes, shit, sorry.” Scorpius hobbled towards the bed, falling onto it and crawling towards Albus. “Don’t wake up, keep sleeping.”

“‘Y’okay?” Albus asked, pushing onto his elbows. 

“Yes, just my foot,” Scorpius whispered, even though he wanted to say this was a pain the like of which he’d never experienced before. Honestly, it was a stubbed toe. How could it hurt this much? “Go back to sleep,” he whispered, slipping his legs under the blankets and sighing happily when Albus immediately curled around his side. It was something Albus always did, even when the weather was warm, seeking out Scorpius and gravitating towards him as they slept. Scorpius pulled Albus closer, slipping his arms around him and yawning into his hair. 

“You left,” Albus said thickly, his voice blurred by sleepiness but clear to Scorpius all the same. Scorpius frowned. 

“Oh, yes, I just went out,” he explained, feeling excited and nervous again as he remembered the reason why. 

“You weren’t here when I got home, and I was worried you left,” Albus curled closer, “because of what I said.”

“Oh!” Scorpius blinked, it not having occurred to him to leave Albus a note. “No, I didn’t ― not like that!” He pulled the blanket around them a little higher. “Sorry, it was nothing like that.”

Albus made a soft sound. “Don’t have to apologise to me. I was the one who was rude, and…” he adjusted himself, his cheek against Scorpius’s chest. “Rude and door slammy,” he finally settled on. Scorpius sighed softly himself, running his fingers through Albus’s hair. He pulled the length of it out, then let it settle back down. 

“No, it was nothing like that,” he repeated, happy to be warm in bed with Albus. They lay still for a long moment, nervous energy and the warm shape of Albus’s body against his side keeping Scorpius awake. 

“Hey, Scorpius?” Albus mumbled, suddenly pushing himself upright and leaning over Scorpius. 

“Mm?”

“You know I do want to marry you, yeah? That...That wasn’t what I meant, earlier. I didn’t mean it to sound like that.” Albus swallowed. “Because I love you,” he said, quietly. “You do know that, don’t you?” he mumbled, his voice somehow both hesitant and insistent, and Scorpius blinked, taken aback by the question. He nodded, nose brushing against Albus’s, as he tried to form a sentence that adequately conveyed that he not only knew that, but felt the same. He wasn’t very good at those sorts of things, though, and he sighed gratefully when Albus kissed him, once, lips barely brushing Scorpius’s. 

It was soft, tentative, as if Albus wasn’t quite sure how it would be received, and Scorpius felt something in his chest grow tight at that. There was nothing Albus had said earlier that Scorpius didn’t agree with, that he didn’t feel himself, and what’s more nothing had changed in how he felt towards Albus or how he thought Albus felt towards him. He felt choked, though, that emotional tongue tie still bottling the words up inside him as it often did. He didn't know how to say any of this, so he ran his lips against Albus’s, kissing him back just as softly and running his hands over his arms to his shoulders. Albus moaned softly, his breath ghosting over Scorpius’s lips, and Scorpius hesitated a moment then deepened the kiss. He thought this was supposed to be chaste, a peace offering from Albus after his perceived transgressions, but Scorpius was feeling wound up, elated by his evening’s activities and desperate to show Albus that everything was fine between them, more than fine. He wanted contact, and skin, and intimacy. 

He wanted sex. 

Scorpius parted his lips, running one hand down Albus’s back and and then up to his neck once more. He squeezed it as he shifted his hips slightly, jostling Albus and causing him to settle fully on top of him, and that ― oh, that was better, Scorpius thought as he pressed his growing erection against Albus’s groin. Albus huffed a startled breath, resting his palms on the bed beside Scorpius’s head. Scorpius hummed, rolling his hips ever so slightly, and Albus responded in turn, grinding down against him. Scorpius licked his lips as he felt the hot line of Albus’s erection against his hip, and he ran his hands up into Albus’s hair, pulling him down and kissing him messily. He brought his legs up around Albus, feet tangled in the sheets as Albus kissed down his neck, one hand pushing his t-shirt up, sliding over his ribs to his nipple. 

Scorpius gasped, his hips jerking up as he felt the rough pads of Albus’s fingers over the peaked nub, rubbing gently back and forth. It had surprised him at first, how much he liked to be touched there. He’d never thought to do it to himself, but the first time Albus had run his lips over it through his shirt, sucking gently at it, the sensation had been electrifying. Albus pinched it gently now, thumb and forefinger pressing and releasing at the sensitive skin as he kissed slowly over Scorpius’s throat, and Scorpius tried to swallow his moans. He gave up, groaning loudly as Albus kissed the center of his chest, once, then sucked his nipple into his mouth.

“Ahh!” 

Scorpius swallowed, spreading his legs wider and cradling Albus’s head as he pulled at the peaked nub with his lips. He pulled away slightly, his breath cooling the skin and sending goosebumps up Scorpius’s sides and arms, and Scorpius gasped again when Albus moved to the other side, pulling the thin material of his t-shirt taut and then biting gently at his nipple through it. 

“Oh, fu ―” Scorpius mouth dropped open, his back arching as he pressed his chest against Albus’s mouth, his fingers tight in the tangle of his hair. 

Albus had joked, all those years ago, about how Scorpius might be easy on their first date. He hadn’t been, not by a long shot, so nervous and unsure of himself at the time, but he’d been surprised by how much, and how quickly, he liked sex. He liked the way Albus felt above him, or underneath him, liked the feeling of fingers in his hair and over his skin, of hands gripping at him. He liked the way Albus made him feel, the sounds he made Scorpius make and the ones he made in return. Scorpius could never get enough of those, he thought, as he rolled his hips up to press his erection against Albus’s belly, heard him moan in response. With his lips pressed against Scorpius's chest, Scorpius could feel the vibrations as Albus moaned again. The material of his t-shirt was damp from Albus’s tongue, Albus’s cock a hard line against his thigh, and Scorpius felt hot, and turned on, and in love. He wanted to feel Albus against him, inside him, wanted to feel him come. 

He wanted Albus to fuck him. 

Scorpius arched his neck, hips rolling uncontrollably now as he pulled Albus up by his hair, fingers massaging over his scalp as he kissed him, open-mouthed and dirty. He slid his tongue into Albus’s mouth, running one hand down to push at the waistband of his pyjama bottoms, the other trying to ruck his shirt up. He groaned as he felt Albus’s belly against his own, and he pressed himself against it, kicking the blankets away from them. Scorpius impulsively pushed Albus onto his back, kissing him again as he settled in his lap. 

“God,” Albus groaned as he ran his hands down Scorpius sides, to his arse. He molded them around it, squeezing gently and then harder, as he ground himself against it. They both moaned loudly at the contact. 

“Off,” Scorpius mumbled, pulling at Albus’s shirt. “Take this off.”

Scorpius ran his lips over Albus’s neck as Albus lifted his hips off the bed, struggling to get his shirt up and then his pyjama bottoms down. He got them to his knees, Scorpius lifting off enough for Albus to kick them away, his t-shirt soon joining them. Albus sat up to kiss him again, pulling away as Scorpius ripped his own t-shirt over his head then helping him struggle out of his sweat pants. It was awkward, ungainly, Scorpius having never mastered the finesse of undressing seductively, but Albus disagreed and sometimes vocally. He made a strangled sound now as Scorpius sat down again, naked, in his lap, and Scorpius pressed himself against him, delighting in the feeling of skin on skin. Scorpius sucked his lower lip as Albus bit down gently at his neck. 

“Do we ― _uh_ ― do we have lube?” he stammered as Albus kissed down his throat to his collarbone, then the top of his chest. He nodded as he sucked on Scorpius’s nipple again, laving gentle licks as he pulled at the other one with his free hand. Scorpius was breathing so loud he could hear it. 

“Conjured?” he mumbled against Scorpius’s skin, but Scorpius shook his head slightly as Albus gripped his arse. 

“Conjured sucks,” Scorpius gasped, pulling Albus up for a kiss and tangling his hands in the mess of his hair. He was really, really glad Albus wasn’t going to have to cut it off for this wedding. He felt a sudden, unexpected bubble of nervousness inside him at the thought of the wedding, at what he was going to do tomorrow, but he pushed it away, rolling his hips and pressing his cock against Albus’s belly. Albus groaned, licking his lips. 

“Uhh. Your top drawer, then. Or maybe the second one. Or the third. Definitely one of the drawers,” he suggested distractedly, running his hands over Scorpius’s thighs. Scorpius leaned over, overbalancing slightly and falling onto his hands then huffing a laugh as Albus kissed his side, over his ribs. He reached into his chest of drawers, opening the first one. His fingers bumped over his socks, his heart beating even faster as they skidded over the little box he’d bought tonight before touching the cold exterior of the tube of lube. He grabbed it, sliding the drawer shut with a soft _snick_ and sitting upright again. He pushed Albus back down with a gentle shove, his free hand in the centre of his chest. 

Albus laughed in surprise. He shifted to get comfortable, and Scorpius grinned back, kissing him softly at first, and then harder. He liked surprising Albus. 

His eyes having adjusted to the darkness, Scorpius could see the line of Albus’s cock, hard against his belly. He rested his weight on his knees, sitting up again as he flipped the lube cap open with his thumb, then poured a generous dollop onto his free hand. It was cold, clear, and he ran his fingers through it before moving his hand down and over Albus’s cock. Albus hissed, pressing his head back into the pillow as he lifted his hips up slightly, pumping himself into the loose fist of Scorpius’s fingers. Scorpius did it again, ran his hand up and down Albus’s length. He bit his lip at the sounds Albus made ― a breathy moan as Scorpius ran his palm over the head, a hitch of breath as he trailed his slick fingers down the shaft. He could make Albus come like this, easily, or he could do this for hours, light teasing touches that were never quite enough to tip Albus over the edge. He liked doing that, a lot, but tonight he wanted something different, something harder and faster. He didn’t feel like teasing. 

Scorpius kissed Albus’s chest, then pulled his hand away. 

He wiped the remainder of the lube over Albus’s fingers, before pulling them unceremoniously between his legs, leaning down to kiss Albus once more and to swallow the sound of understanding Albus made as he gently pressed his fingers against him. Scorpius sighed, mouth open against Albus’s as he slipped first one, and then a second finger inside him. 

It was tight, slightly on the painful side, as Albus eased his fingers in and out. It had been a while since they’d done it like this, since Scorpius had felt something inside him. It was something he had at first been anxious beyond words about ― would it be painful? Would he like it? How in the hell could anything possibly fit _there_? But he quickly discovered that the apprehension about it was in fact the worst part; once underway, the act itself felt fine. Any pain he’d feared would come with it, any discomfort, was worth it for what came afterwards, and the pleasure, the heat, the intimacy of it ― Scorpius craved that. 

He sighed now, hips pushing back against Albus’s fingers as he felt that burn fading away now. 

“Good?” Albus mumbled, and Scorpius nodded as he pushed himself back a little more forcefully ― then gasped as Albus angled them slightly, and ran them over his prostate. 

“Ohh!” he kissed Albus harder, rolling his hips. Albus did it again, fingers brushing against that spot and Scorpius made a strangled sound, fingers clenching in the bed sheets. He curled his toes, pushing back and seeking out the sensation, his cock heavy and hard as it pressed against Albus’s ― reminding him of what he wanted. He inhaled sharply, brushing a little hair out of his face, then pulling away and off of Albus’s fingers. 

“Already?” Albus murmured in confusion, and Scorpius nodded. It was usually something Scorpius loved, when Albus used only his fingers, working them inside him until he could barely think straight, and it felt no less brilliant tonight ― but he wanted Albus inside him. He nodded again as he gripped Albus’s cock, settling down over it. Albus hummed, moving his legs so his feet were braced on the bed as Scorpius pressed the head of Albus’s cock against himself. He frowned in concentration, chewing on his lip as he pushed back, his breath hitching as the thick head slipped inside him. He waited a moment, adjusting before rolling his hips and inching down further until his arse met the fingers he had wrapped around Albus’s cock. He shook his hair away from his sweaty forehead again as he inched down further, the sound of Albus’s harsh breathing loud in the room. Both of them moaned as Albus slowly rolled his hips up, gently, slipping further inside and then out again as Scorpius wiggled his hips. 

“God, that feels ―” Albus broke off, swallowing loudly as he dug his fingers into Scorpius’s thigh. Scorpius nodded distractedly as he removed his hand, settling down fully onto the length of Albus’s cock. He stilled, chest heaving and muscles clenching gently as he licked his lips and let his body adjust. The sensation of fullness was as strange and as good as ever, and Scorpius hummed, brow creased into a frown as he leant down, burying his face against Albus’s neck. The movement caused Albus to slip out of him slightly and Scorpius pushed back, mouth open against Albus’s skin. 

“Fuck,” Albus murmured thickly, running his hands up and down Scorpius’s back as he tried to keep still. 

“Mm,” Scorpius agreed, breathing hard as he lifted himself up a little higher on his knees. “Move?” he asked shakily, then felt Albus’s chest vibrate as he laughed. 

“Impatient,” he whispered. Scorpius bit his lip, smiling as he rested his weight on his elbows. He rubbed his nose against Albus’s. 

“Move, please?” he amended in a breathy whisper against Albus’s lips and Albus laughed again, kissing him back, slow and gentle ― then pushing inside him, hard. 

“ _Uhh_!”

Scorpius gasped, moving up onto his hands and locking his elbows as Albus thrust into him, again. He spread his legs slightly, knees skidding against the sheets as he bit his lip to control the sounds he wanted to make. It felt good, so good, as Albus adjusted the angle and gripped Scorpius's hips so he could hit ― _ahh_ ― that spot inside Scorpius again. Scorpius’s fingers tightened in the sheets as he choked out a sound, Albus groaning in response as he upped the pace again, hitting that spot on every second thrust. The bedhead began to hit the wall and Scorpius impulsively shot one hand out to still it, then groaned as it gave him the extra leverage to push back and meet Albus’s thrusts, and that felt even better. He was close, so close, as he shut his eyes and tried to gasp down breaths, the air leaving him on loud pants as Albus’s hips slapped up against his skin. 

He gripped the headboard harder.

Scorpius moved his free hand to his groin, the leftover lube on it letting his fingers glide easily over his aching cock. He rested his weight on his knees, on the hand gripping the wooden head of their bed, as he pushed back to meet Albus’s hips, letting the movement push his cock into the loose fist of his own hand. He gasped again louder this time, and gave up on trying to be quiet as he let the feeling of his building orgasm wash over him, creeping up his spine and making the backs of his knees tingle. 

“Oh, shi ― Al, I’m gonna ―”

“Yeah?” 

“ _Ah_ , ye ― yeah.” 

“Do it.” 

“Oh, fu ― _ohh_!”

Scorpius felt his arse tighten around Albus’s cock as he ran his hand over his own one last time, his thighs trembling and his hips bucking. He groaned again, long and low, as he spurted over his fist, Albus panting loudly beneath him and rolling his hips uncontrollably as he chased his own orgasm. Scorpius kissed him messily, his mouth uncoordinated as he worked his own hand over himself and tried to control his breathing. Albus continued to roll his hips, pulling out only a fraction before pushing inside Scorpius as he rolled them both onto their side. He pulled Scorpius’s leg over his hips, thrusting in again, kissing him harder as he gripped the back of Scorpius’s knee. Scorpius ran his hands through Albus’s hair, massaging his fingers over his scalp and Albus groaned, loud, as he pumped himself into Scorpius one final time. Scorpius bit his lip as he felt Albus’s cock twitch, wet warmth pulsing into him. Albus moaned, his hips jerking erratically. He sighed, exhaling loudly as he slowly stilled. He rested his forehead against Scorpius’s, and Scorpius shifted, gingerly stretching his leg out but not wanting to dislodge Albus.

“Mm,” Albus mumbled, his voice heavy and sated. He kissed Scorpius’s cheek then licked his lips. He pushed his hair off his face. In the dark of the room, Scorpius could just make out his smile. “That was good,” he said thickly. He smoothed Scorpius’s hair away from his face, and Scorpius hummed in agreement. 

“I’m really glad,” Scorpius murmured, making a face as Albus’s softening cock slipped out of him. Albus blinked across at him in confusion, his face still deeply flushed and his chest rising and falling as his breathing evened out. He pulled Scorpius closer to him, and Scorpius let himself be easily manoeuvred, his limbs loose and pliant. Albus rested his hand on the small of Scorpius’s back, trailing a soft pattern over his tailbone with his fingers. 

“You’re glad that the sex was goo ―” Albus began to ask, but Scorpius shook his head. 

“No. Well, yes, of course. But I meant that you still want to marry me,” he clarified quietly, smiling sleepily at Albus. 

“Oh.” Albus summoned his wand and whispered a quick spell to clean them both up. Scorpius shivered at the tingle of it over his skin. “Of course I do,” Albus murmured, kissing Scorpius gently. “I really do love you,” Albus repeated. He kissed Scorpius again, on the tip of his nose, then his lips, as he pulled the blankets over them. Scorpius smiled, sleepy and sated, lethargy settling over him and happiness making his stomach flip. 

“Yeah. You too.”

-:-:-:-

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Comments] and [kudos] are love! Come say hi on [LJ ](http://shiftylinguini.livejournal.com/profile/)or [tumblr ](https://www.tumblr.com/dashboard)♥


	7. Improper Proposals

-:-:-:-

Scorpius had planned to make breakfast.

He wasn’t much of a cook, he would be the first to admit that, but part of his plan for what he was going to do today had involved waking up early, showering, and then bringing Albus breakfast in bed. He’d thought he might cook eggs, which he was okay at frying, and spinach, which he knew how to not entirely ruin, and he could definitely do toast. He’d eaten the last tin of beans ― cold ― the night before, and he didn’t think that tinned spaghetti was really a breakfast food, so he was going to just cut up an apple and some strawberries instead and hope he could pass it off as ‘continental’. If he cracked some pepper over the eggs, and garnished them with parsley from the garden, he thought he could get away with it. At least, that’s what he’d _planned_ to do in the morning. 

Instead, they slept in until eleven, and then had sex again. 

It was slower than the previous night. Albus spooned up behind Scorpius, his breath coming warm and fast against Scorpius’s neck as he pushed inside him. Scorpius had gripped the pillow, Albus’s fingers running slowly over his cock as he fucked into him, agonizingly slowly. He drew Scorpius’s orgasm out until they both couldn't take it any longer, Albus pushing Scorpius onto his stomach, and thrusting into him hard until Scorpius’s mouth had dropped open in a silent scream of pleasure as he came. 

Afterwards, he really couldn’t be arsed with making eggs. 

He twirled on the spot in the kitchen again, one arm around his middle as he bit at a fingernail and waited for the toast to finish. His hair was wet from the shower, dripping slightly down his neck and dampening his blue t-shirt. He nervously balanced on his tiptoes, trying to run through what he might say to Albus when he took him his breakfast. He jumped, nearly falling over when the toast popped loudly. 

He plopped the pieces onto one plate, slathering two with butter and then marmite ― _gross_ ― for Albus, and marmalade for himself. He waited a moment, then licked the marmite knife, only to discover it was exactly as revolting as he recalled it was. He blinked at the knife, then dropped it in the sink, shuddering as he tried to figure out why he’d just done that. He’d hated marmite his entire life, since he was a little kid, and that wasn’t likely to have changed now. He really must be off his game, he thought; the riot of butterflies in his stomach only seemed to confirm this. 

He sighed, steeling himself for what he was about to do, as he carried the plate upstairs. 

Albus was still in bed, having opted for a thorough Cleaning Spell rather than having to move. His words, Scorpius thought happily, reminding himself how happy Albus had been at the the offer of Scorpius bring him toast in bed. Albus was happy, and Scorpius was going to make him even happier ― well, hopefully he was, Scorpius thought, his brow furrowing slightly as Albus sat up and grinned. He was either going to make Albus very happy, or he was going to offend him tremendously. Scorpius bit his lip, handing Albus the plate. It was 50/50, really. 

“I’m gonna get crumbs everywhere,” Albus stated merrily as he took a loud crunch of toast. A loud, startled laugh burst out of Scorpius.

Albus said it as if it was a warning, an inevitability, as if there was simply no way he could conceivably eat his toast over the plate. Scorpius loved him so much, in that moment, he didn’t quite know what to do with the emotion. He stared at Albus, his heart thumping an impatient beat as he surreptitiously fiddled with the handle of his drawer, then pulled it open and quickly slipped the little box he’d stashed in there the night before into his sweatpants pocket. He shook some of his damp hair away from his face, as Albus turned back to him, offering the plate as he finished his second piece of toast. 

“You din’t’eat y’rs,” he said, chewing his mouthful, and Scorpius managed another nervous laugh, shaking his head. He took the plate, then rested it on the floor. There was no room on either of their bedside tables; they were either too covered with books about mysterious animal illnesses on Scorpius’s side, and with ideas for ice cream flavours and names on Albus’s. It was risky, leaving the plate on the floor, but Scorpius just had to hope he wouldn’t forget it was there and end up with a foot covered in jam. 

“I’ll eat mine in a bit,” he said. “I’m not really hungry.”

“It’ll go cold, though, and go gro ―” 

“Um. Stop talking. Please,” Scorpius interrupted softly, his palms sweaty and his insides doing a nauseating jig inside him. Merlin, he possibly should have had more than cold beans for dinner last night, and whatever that strange tea Giselda at the jewellery store had given him. It had tasted awful, but considering she was doing him such a huge favour, he hadn’t had the heart to say no when she kept refilling his cup as she worked. He felt rather sick now. 

Of course, that could very well be from what he was about to do. 

“Why, what’s wrong ―” Albus started, sounding worried, but Scorpius waved him off, his other hand in his pocket, his fingers clenched firmly around the little box he held in his palm. 

“No, no, nothing's wrong.” Scorpius swallowed, resisting the urge to bite his nails once more. “Um. It’s just.” He clambered back onto the bed, walking on his knees until he was sitting next to Albus’s legs. He swallowed again, then crawled over Albus’s thighs. He took a deep breath, as Albus frowned at him in consternation. “I’m just going to do something, and you can’t laugh, or interrupt, or swear at me until it’s done. Okay?” he finished nervously. Albus’s frown had transformed from one of surprise, into one of apprehension. He nodded slowly, sitting somewhat stiffly in the pile of sheets and pillows. 

“Albus Severus Potter,” Scorpius said loudly. Too loudly, he realised from the startled look on Albus’s face. Shit, he was messing this up. What was it he planned to say last night? He’d already forgotten all of it, he realised, the speech he’d written in his head having slipped out of his ear while he slept. He couldn't even remember what he’d considered saying as he waited for the toast to finish ten minutes ago. Merlin, this was why he wasn’t great at being impulsive ― he should have _practiced_ this! He should have…Scorpius took a deep breath, shutting his eyes and tightening his fist around the box. 

“Albus Severus Potter,” he tried again, his eyes still shut. He was pleased to hear his volume had returned to normal. Okay, he could do this. He slid his eyes open looking down at the jeweler’s box as he thumbed it open. He sensed Albus stiffen further, but he continued talking anyway. 

“Will you do me the honour of,” he held the box up, the ring he’d asked Giselda to engrave for him last night visible in the centre. He took a deep breath, deep enough to make himself dizzy, then let it out unevenly. “Of eloping with me?” he finally managed to say. 

His heart hammered unpleasantly in his chest. Merlin, why was he so nervous? They were already engaged! But still, if Albus said no, if Albus was offended...it was possible that Scorpius, rather than _un_ -fucking the situation with this second proposal, was fucking it up even further. 

“Are you fucking serious?” Albus whispered, and Scorpius felt a hot stab of panic, of real and terrible fear that he’d done the wrong thing, until he opened his eyes and saw Albus’s face. 

Albus was smiling. Not just smiling, he was grinning, euphorically, so wide it looked like his cheeks hurt. His eyes were bright, shining with something that could be tears, but he didn’t look sad, or angry, or like Scorpius had put his foot in it. He looked ecstatic. 

Scorpius nodded, and Albus bounced in the bed, almost knocking Scorpius off his legs. He rubbed his hands through his hair, scruffling it up. 

“Argh!” He did it again, grinning almost hysterically. “Yes! Fuck, yes! I wanted to...I wanted to suggest that, earlier, from the beginning, but I thought you wanted a big...a proper _wedding_ , so I was going along with it!”

“No,” Scorpius mumbled, smiling back idiotically himself. “I don’t care about proper. I’d much rather be...improper, I think,” he added quietly, so overwhelmed by relief he was finding it hard to talk. 

“Improper,” Albus beamed, his expression still somewhat shocked. “Yeah. Yes, let’s do that,” he breathed, pulling Scorpius into a kiss. He crushed his mouth against his lips, his cheek, more enthusiasm than finesse, and Scorpius let him. He shut his eyes, letting the feeling wash over him, as a weight the size of a hippogriff lifted off of his shoulders. He dropped his head onto Albus’s chest, letting Albus pull him down into a hug. After a moment, he kicked the blankets away too so he could lay his legs over Albus’s thighs.

“But you don’t...you don’t mind?” Albus asked, searching Scorpius’s face intently for any lie. Scorpius simply shrugged, never feeling more sure of anything in his life; he didn’t give a flying fuck about this wedding. He just wanted Albus, to be his, to be married ― to be happy. 

“Nope,” he said sincerely. “I’ll be glad to see the back of it, if I’m being completely honest,” he admitted. “And we can just...do a party or something for them when we get back?” he suggested and Albus laughed, a slightly hysterical tinge to it. 

“Oh my god, they’re going to kill us,” he said, eyes bright. “Seriously, how are we going to get out of this bloody wedding, let alone the country?” He laughed again and Scorpius joined in, shrugging with even more conviction. 

“They’ll get over it. They haven’t killed us yet, and we’ve done much worse.” Albus snorted a loud laugh, still looking rather shellshocked, and Scorpius felt even more encouraged that his plan was, in fact, as excellent as he’d thought it might be. “The announcements haven’t even gone out―”

“ ― Because no one could agree on a font!” Albus added, grinning stupidly. “A _font_!”

“And now they don’t have to,” Scorpius grinned back. “Nothing is paid for,” he continued softly. “There’s nothing to cancel, really, we just have to tell them it’s off. I’m happy to do that.” He kissed Albus’s cheek, feeling the warmth of his flushed face. “I just want to go somewhere nice, and marry you,” he whispered into Albus’s skin, and Albus laughed happily. 

“Yes!” he pulled Scorpius against him tighter. “Merlin, yes, we can go somewhere really nice, and just _do_ it.”

Scorpius pulled away, nodding. “Do you know where you want to go?”

Albus shrugged. “I don’t mind. Anywhere.” He ran a hand through his hair. “Somewhere with a beach, maybe. We can go swimming!”

Scorpius smiled at the childlike joy in Albus’s voice at the thought. He nodded, again, searching in the bed for the dropped ring box. 

“Okay, so let me put the ring on you.” He laughed as Albus held out his right hand. “No, that’s the wrong hand. Other hand, please.”

“Oh, whoops.” Albus frowned. “Does it really matter, though?

“Of course. It’s tradition.” Scorpius chewed his lip, smiling cheekily. “Actually, in a proper wizard proposal ―” 

Albus glared. “Oh my god, if I have to hear one more word about the proper and traditional wizarding _anything_ , ever again, in my entire life, I swear I will ―” 

Scorpius laughed, kissing the back of Albus’s hand. “Oh, shut up and stick your finger out.” He grinned when Albus complied. “Right,” Scorpius eased the ring on, the silver smooth and the delicate engravings catching the light, “so, there we go. We are now engaged to...to run away, I guess.” Scorpius smiled. 

“Yeah,” Albus said, his eyes bright as he looked at the ring on his finger. He watched the way the light glimmered on it, turning his hand back and forth, and Scorpius kicked himself for not getting Albus a ring sooner; he clearly loved it. But then again, if he had then he wouldn't have been able to do this. He found it rather hard to regret that, really. This had all worked out rather well. 

“So, this way you don’t have to have a wedding,” Scorpius continued, watching Albus’s happy expression. “But you do still have to marry me, though,” he added sheepishly. Albus laughed, a strong puff of air against Scorpius’s cheek as he hugged Scorpius again. He pulled back, still grinning. He looked mad, and so beautiful it was making Scorpius’s chest ache. 

“That’s the _good_ bit, Scorp!” Albus replied enthusiastically.

“Yeah,” Scorpius sighed. “So, Albus Severus Potter.” Scorpius grinned. “Do you want to run away with me?”

“Oh, yes.” Albus smiled, wide and happy. “Yep, I definitely do.”

-:-:-:-

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Comments] and [kudos] are love! Come say hi on [LJ ](http://shiftylinguini.livejournal.com/profile/)or [tumblr ](https://www.tumblr.com/dashboard)♥


	8. Epilogue: Runaways

-:-:-:-

Scorpius stretched.

Sunday morning, at half past seven, and he stood on his tiptoes, arching his back and reaching for the ceiling as he felt his back crack. He smiled, happy, his hangover present but not bad enough to make him feel ill. Outside, he could hear the rustle of the breeze through the tall trees’ leaves, could hear the far off crash of waves against the sandy beach. He sighed happily, stretching his arms out to his side and delighting in the pull of his muscles. His arms hurt from swimming, his legs from dancing. He ran his thumb across the second ring on his finger, for what must have been the thirtieth time in the last twenty-four hours.

His face was sore from smiling.

Behind him, the early morning sunlight filtered in through the sheer white curtains. It left a bright streak across the bed where Albus lay on his stomach, naked, as he began to read the letter from his brother. 

“ _‘Dear Mr and Mr Dickhead’_ ― oh, well that’s charming,” Albus interjected as Scorpius snorted, turning around to watch Albus read. “ _Congratulations on buggering off and leaving me to deal with the fabulous mess of having to tell all the relatives who knew that you were getting hitched that you’ve done it without them._ ” 

“He's not really mad, is he?” Scorpius asked with a small frown, but Albus shook his head, grinning broadly. 

“Nah, it’s James. He won’t give a stuff, he’s just winding me up.” He rolled onto his back, the sheets low over his hips. 

“Oh, good.” Scorpius smiled in relief. “What else does he say?”

“ _Everybody here is completely shocked and appalled with what you’ve done_ ,” Albus continued to read, “ _Although, by shocked I actually mean ‘not shocked in the slightest’ and by ‘appalled with you’ I mean the oldies are having a moment of self-awareness about how they might not have been the best wedding planners. I don’t think anyone will be looking into that as a change of career any time soon_.” Albus flicked Scorpius a very amused glance as Scorpius sat on the edge of the bed, yawning. 

“Brilliant,” Albus said, looking happily down at the parchment and stroking the Burong Pok owl’s feathers fondly. It preened, happily pulling at its treat as it waited for Albus to send it back with a reply. 

“You don’t suppose anyone will be properly mad with us, do you?” Scorpius queried gently, rubbing at one eye blearily. Maybe he was a bit more hungover than he’d realised. They had arrived back at their villa rather late. Or early, really, Scorpius thought happily. 

He’d had a brilliant night. 

“Nah,” Albus nudged Scorpius’s back with his knee. “They’ll forgive us.” Albus bit his lip cheekily. “They want grandkids.”

Scorpius blinked, looking at Albus’s over his shoulder. “Where do we get one of them from?” he replied playfully. 

Albus shrugged, grinning. “Dunno. Tesco?”

“Merlin. That’d really make Grandad turn green.” 

“Harrods, then.” 

Scorpius laughed, looking at Albus fondly. He sighed, then flopped down, laying backwards over Albus’s legs. “So, what else did James say?”

“Umm,” Albus’s lips moved as he skimmed over the letter. “He says Lily says hi, and that if you get stung by a jellyfish I should ― oh, bloody hell, Lily.” Albus laughed. “That I should wee on you.”

Scorpius made a face. “She’s actually not wrong, though,” he conceded, closing his eyes. Albus stared at him for a moment, then returned to the letter. 

“Right. Breezing right past that. Um, blah blah blah, James says everyone is well, and they send their love in buckets ― see, told you they weren’t really mad ― and that, oh!” Albus licked his lips excitedly. “He says your dad and mine went out for a beer the other night!”

Scorpius’s eyes shot open, his brows disappearing up into his fringe. “They never!” he said in disbelief, turning to look at Albus’s beaming face. “A _beer_?”

“Yep, apparently.” 

“But my dad doesn’t drink beer...” Scorpius said, lips tilting up into a confused yet ecstatic smile. 

Albus returned it, shrugging. “Maybe the shock of us eloping broke their brains, and now they’re trying to be friends?” he suggested, biting his lip as he returned to skimming the letter. Scorpius couldn't miss the hopeful tone in Albus’s voice at that, nor could he mistake the hopeful feeling in his own chest. 

He liked the idea of their fathers getting along. Scorpius’s mother and Albus’s grandmother had been exchanging letters and recipes since their afternoon at the patisserie, and Scorpius had even heard his mother arranging to have Molly and Ginny over for an afternoon soiree. It was small, just the barest hint of a blossoming friendship, but it was there and it made Scorpius so happy he felt his smile would break his face. The only person who seemed happier about it was Albus. 

They’d told only their parents ― and Albus’s siblings ― what they were going to do, although they’d opted for arranging everything between them first. The location, the date, the small and incredibly private ceremony, and then the honeymoon. Albus’s parents had been taken aback, but the two of them had insisted on giving Albus the money to pay for their international Portkey, and for their villa in Ubud. Albus’s father had taken him aside as well, whispering something to him which Scorpius didn't hear, but which made Albus smile a secret, happy sort of smile for the rest of the day. 

Scorpius thought his mother hadn’t believed he was serious when he’d told his parents, and his father had looked beyond surprised, although he'd also had a bright and almost proud look in his eyes as he’d listened to Scorpius’s quiet yet determined announcement. He supposed his mother would have to believe them now that they’d sent everyone a little postcard, with a picture of the rings and where they were staying. He’d been worried she would be hurt, but she’d sent him a heartfelt letter about how proud she and his father were of the man he’d become, and that she was looking forward to eating ice cream cake with him and Albus when they returned. Scorpius had read her letter three times already, the bathroom door shut so he could have a cry without feeling embarrassed. 

He was going to find his mother something really lovely as a gift while he was here. 

He shifted, swallowing down his emotion as he rubbed his back against Albus’s legs. He reached up, grabbing Albus’s foot through the thin sheet and squeezing it. 

“Did James say anything else?” he asked quietly, reaching out with his other hand to find Albus’s.

“Hmm,” Albus settled against the pillows, stifling a yawn. “ _I hope you two are having the time of your lives over there. Send me some photos, and don’t try and get a tan. You’ll wilt in the Balinese sun, you pasty English flowers. Love you. See you soon. James._ ” Albus smiled. “He also says he and Teddy have a really cool present for us for when we get back.”

“Awesome,” Scorpius said, wondering what it might be. He ran the pad of his thumb over Albus’s finger. Albus hummed in sleepy agreement, yawning as they both listened to the distant crash of waves over the beach. 

“What would their last name be?” Scorpius blurted suddenly, and Albus’s brow creased in confusion. 

“Whose?” he asked, tilting his head to the side. Scorpius rolled over, cheek resting on Albus’s thigh. 

“The grandkids,” he clarified. “Would they be Potters or Malfoys?”

“Ohh,” Albus nodded in understanding, smiling slightly. “They’d be both, of course.”

“Potter-Malfoys?” Scorpius made a face, and Albus grinned. 

“Yeah, or...Potfoys?” he suggested, Scorpius laughed once, loudly. 

“Or maybe Malter?” Albus went on, resting the tips of his fingers against the tips of Scorpius’s. “Or even Mapotlerfoy, for that sort of….Scottish aristocrat feel.” He pushed his fingers forward, linking them with Scorpius’s as Scorpius continued to laugh. 

“Mapotlerfoy sounds like a crockery brand, Al.” 

“Even better!” Albus said, squeezing Scorpius’s hand. “A really fancy crockery brand, the kind you only use when people you want to impress are coming around.”

Scorpius sighed, his face starting to hurt from smiling again. “Albus Severus Mapotlerfoy,” he said evenly and Albus snorted, flinging his free arm over his face and groaning. 

“Merlin, just when I was certain my name couldn't get any more ridiculous,” he said, voice slightly muffled. Scorpius closed his eyes, his smile blooming into a yawn as he rubbed his cheek against Albus’s leg. 

“I like you as Albus Potter,” he said thickly, humming when Albus carded his fingers into his hair. He sighed contentedly, imagining he could feel the weight of Albus’s ring against his skin. “I like you just as you are.”

“Yeah.” Albus ran his fingers gently over Scorpius’s hair, smoothing it back from his forehead.

“I like you just as you are too, Scorpius Malfoy.”

-:-:-:-

**Notes for the Chapter:**

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**Author's Note:**

> This work is part of an ongoing fest and the author will be revealed soon! Feel free to show your appreciation here with [comments] or [kudos] or at [Livejournal](http://hprarefest.livejournal.com/101504.html) ♥


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